


I Trust You - Tory Nichols

by irwindiaz11



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Betrayal, Bullying, Cobra Kai (Web Series) Spoilers, Cobra Kai Dojo, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Multiple Pairings, No Smut, Past/Present alternation, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 48,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28306215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irwindiaz11/pseuds/irwindiaz11
Summary: —The girl laughed. "Been in the business for years, blondie. I ain't no rookie."—The world shows no mercy. So, why should we? Some people have it good, but the rest of us, we have to fight for every inch of what's ours. Not just to score a point. For everything.Tory Nichols - introduced as the bad guy in Season 2 of Cobra Kai, with barely any insight on her past. Is Tory really the villain that Samantha LaRusso sees in her, or is she just the result of a tough life? Keep reading to dive into what I think Tory's background could be.
Relationships: Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz & Tory Nichols, Miguel Diaz & Johnny Lawrence, Miguel Diaz/Tory (Cobra Kai), Robby Keene & John Kreese, Tory (Cobra Kai)/Original Female Character(s), Tory Nichols & John Kreese, Tory Nichols & Robby Keene
Comments: 146
Kudos: 62





	1. Always Isn't Forever

**_2010_ **

"Mom, can I have another sandwich?" Nine-year-old Tory asked as she sat in their dimly lit house with her mother and younger brother. "Let me go see if we have more." Mrs Nichols walked into the tiny kitchen where her bag was lying on the table. She unwrapped the paper only to find one sandwich. Her share of dinner. Without hesitation, she cut it into halves and gave it to her children. "Mom, what will you eat?" Her son asked, with his mouth full. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart, I ate at the restaurant today," she lied as she watched her children devour their food. "Will, chew with your mouth closed." As soon as she finished, Tory got up without a word and went into her room. She wasn't full enough, she knew it, and her mother knew it too, but she didn't complain. She didn't complain because there was nothing that could be done. Tory's mom worked as a server at a diner and brought home leftovers they distributed to employees every evening for dinner.

Tory shut the door and brought out a crumpled piece of paper from under the bed. 

_To my darling daughter Tory,_

_I don't know how to articulate in words how much I love you, and every moment I spend with you gives me the joy of five lifetimes. This one year that you've been on this earth has been the happiest in our whole lives. You do not know how lucky your father and I are to have you. I know you can't read yet, but I hope you will read this year after today when you're a strong woman who has made a difference in this world. Happy Birthday, my angel, and never, never, ever forget that I'll always be there with you every step of the way. No matter how old you get, I'll never let go of your hand. Always._

_Lots and lots of love,_

_Mommy_

Tory's eyes watered as she read this, just like she did every night. The word echoed in her mind over and over again. Always. Always. That was a promise, wasn't it? But she broke it. When Tory was three, her father died in a freak accident and her mother couldn't handle it. Her family was rich, she lived in a mansion with lots of servants, fancy cuisines and more toys than she would ever need. What happened after that? Her mother sold the hotel their family ran and was never the same after her father's death. She would lock herself up in her room for hours, even days at a time, her eyes puffy from crying when she did come out. Her daughter was left in the care of the several maids in the house, and was too young to comprehend what was going on.

For a while, things went on that way, but in time, they used up all their savings and were on the verge of bankruptcy when her mother gave up. She decided she had too much on her plate already and couldn't handle bringing up her child. She left Tory in an orphanage for adoption. The girl remembered the last time she saw her mother like it was yesterday. The whole ride to the orphanage, her mother wouldn't stop crying and kept apologizing every two minutes. Three-year-old Tory had nodded and said, "It's okay, Mommy, I love you," because the little girl didn't fully understand the gravity of the situation. She assumed she was being sent to a summer camp of some sort and when she got back, things would be back to normal. 

After a few months, she was adopted by Mrs Nichols, a poorer woman who was also a widow. In these years, she gave Tory the love and attention she yearned for when she finally understood that Mommy was never coming back to pick her up. She grew to love Mrs Nichols like a mother and would protect her stepbrother Will with her life. 

"I guess always isn't forever..." She whispered in a shaking voice, as she stared at the piece of paper in her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks one by one, and gradually turned into a stream as she put her head between her knees and cried. Some days, it would hurt even more than usual, and today was one such day. She could never shake off the feeling that she was abandoned, and that nobody wanted her around because she was a bother, even though Mrs Nichols assured her every single day that she was a unique treasure to the world, and that she was lucky to have found her. 

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. "Tory, I can't sleep." Will's timid voice said from the other side. Tory looked up at the clock. It was almost midnight. How long had she been in here? She shook off her sadness and wiped her tears. She forced a smile as she opened the door. "Come on, you can sleep with me. I'll tell you a story." 

As she lay in the pitch dark room with only a small ray of moonlight peeking through the window, everything quiet except for the ticking of the clock and the sound of Will's steady, peaceful breathing, she made a silent promise to herself and her brother. "I'll always be here for you, Willy, through hell or high water," she whispered. "All you have to do is call me. I'll never leave you, ever. Your big sister will always be here for you. Forever."


	2. Savage

_**Present Day** _

"MIGUEL!" Tory gripped the narrow iron rods of the railing with her sweaty palms as she helplessly watched her boyfriend fall off the second floor. A sharp gasp escaped her mouth as he hit the railing below her and rolled over onto the stairs, limp and motionless. She glanced upwards at Robby Keene, who stared down at Miguel with terror written all over his face, like he couldn't believe what he had done. Tory fixed him with a deadly glare as she watched him sprint out of sight, like the coward he was. Her heart beating out of her chest, she slowly rose on her trembling feet, weak from all the fighting. Her body ached in every place possible, as her lips stung with blood trickling down them.

Samantha LaRusso was standing there, all right, with her hand gripping the wound on the other arm, her big blue eyes welling up with the easy tears that seemed to have come to her rescue every time in the sixteen years of her spoilt and coddled life. Not this time, though. "Princess _Puss_ y," she spat, eyeing the brunette with utmost distaste. "It's all your fault!" Sam cried in a shaking voice, the tears already rolling down her bruised face, just as Tory expected. "If you hadn't started the fight, none of this would have happened!" The taller girl's smirk was wiped off, replaced by an expression of anger and pain, but only appearing as vengeance to Sam. She looked down at Miguel, who was being gently carried off the stairs and onto a stretcher. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to shake off the dread that was beginning to creep into her.

"Oh yeah?" She hissed in a dangerous voice. "It's all my fault, huh? Maybe you missed the part where you kissed my boyfriend. What about that, bitch?" Sam looked away, guilt flickering in her eyes for a moment, until she stonily glared back at her. "So all this was just for that? For one kiss?" Tory rolled her eyes. Wasn't that obvious? So this girl really was one of those 'beauty without brains' types? Shit, what had Sam been told about herself all her life? "Obviously. I had to defend what's mine because I don't get everything handed to me on a silver platter, neatly lined with lace. I had to fight, prove to Miguel that I'm better for him than some spoilt princess."

She stared at Sam as the latter's lips curled into a knowing smirk. _What is she up to?_ Tory thought, her teeth gritted and her fists clenched, trying to control the anger that threatened to erupt inside of her like a volcano, while her chest heaved in exhaustion from the fight. She knew that if she lost control now, LaRusso here wouldn't stand a chance. "Really? So I hoped you proved your point to him, by sending him flying down two floors into unconsciousness. Pretty sure he knows by now that his 'girlfriend' is nothing but a lowly savage, a little nobody whose only strength lies in her fists," she paused and laughed, before correcting herself. "I'm sorry, you're not strong enough there, either. If I recall correctly, you just had the daylights beaten out of you by a 'princess', even after you fought dirty."

Tory swallowed hard, this was an attack that she had no defence against. She wanted to pound the girl's face in and mop the floor with her, but her hands just wouldn't move. She considered running away even though it was a pussy move, but her feet wouldn't budge either. There she was, rooted to the spot, shaking as Sam hurled insults at her and she took it silently. Why wouldn't her body respond to her urge to strike? She wanted to punch Sam so hard that her teeth broke, and she begged for mercy, but here she was, allowing LaRusso to strike first. And she was striking hard.

"Let me tell you what you are. A wild, untamed creature who has no beauty, no charm, no poise, just bad instincts and turbulent emotions. Your unhinged thinking is what might have killed Miguel today. Do you feel even a little bit of remorse? Regret? Nothing? Just what I thought." Suddenly, Tory couldn't take it anymore. Who did this girl think she was, spouting bullshit like that? She saw red all over as she rushed forward to push Sam. Her legs felt unsteady as they jerked forward and her normally steady hands trembled as they reached towards Sam's shirt, grabbing it to push her into the wall. Sam, on the other hand, was calmer as she gripped Tory's wrist and yanked off her spiked bracelet, sliding it onto her own. "What the -" Tory said, shocked beyond her wits.

Sam took advantage of that and kicked her hard in the gut, sending her staggering behind. She held on to the railing as her back slammed into it, steadying herself just in time, or she would have ended up like Miguel, too. Sam wasn't done with her, yet. She pulled her by the arm, tripping her and pinning her to the floor, before slicing her own bracelet across her cheek. Tory screamed in pain, tears blurring her vision as her horizontal position stopped them from flowing. The blood from her cheek tainted her vision red as she lay there, stinging from the defeat.

_I'm not done with you yet, Princess._


	3. San Francisco

**_2010_ **

Tory walked down Chinatown, trying to find her way out of the crowds of tourists, homeless people, and pickpockets. Mrs Nichols lost her job at the diner a few months ago when she got caught sneaking home leftovers for the kids' dinner. It shocked Tory. All this while, she was told that they gave them to her. And honestly, she saw nothing wrong with what her mother had done. Leftovers always end up in the trash anyway, don't they? So why not give it to someone who needs it instead of wasting it? After that, they lived from Los Angeles to San Francisco to stay with Mrs Nichols' parents, until she found a new job. "Mom, we should go back to the diner and demand for them to hire you back. You did nothing wrong." Tory had said, firmly."

No, honey, we don't mess with them. Their word is the last. I'll figure something out. I have you and Will, and that's all I need to be happy." "We'll be okay, mom," Twelve-year-old Tory said, smiling reassuringly though she felt like it was not fair on her mother. "You'll figure out a way, you always do." Mrs Nichols hugged her daughter so, so tight. "What would I do without you, sweetheart? I'm sorry I can't give you a better life, like the one you had..." She whispered, her voice cracking, years wetting Tory's oversized sweatshirt. "Don't be silly. I love you, Mom." "I love you too, baby." 

"God, this place is a dump!" Tory nearly slipped on a stray banana peel but grabbed the wall to steady herself. "Eww, gross!" She grimaced, as one problem led to another, and she found her hand covered in sticky bubblegum that someone stuck to the wall. "Hey, let's go there! That building looks interesting!" Will pointed towards a building across the street, the ground floor had glass window panes and they could see lots of people jumping around. Working out, probably. They jogged across the street, narrowly missing a pizza delivery guy who was too busy talking on his phone to even look where he was going. "Hey, watch it!" Tory yelled, turning around furiously. He ignored her and went on his way. 

"That little..." Will touched her arm lightly. "It's okay, leave him alone. You won't ever see that idiot again, so why pick a fight with him?" "How can you be so calm, Willy?" He shrugged. "I just don't want to invite any more trouble than we already have." She ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. "Okay, let's go!" Both siblings linked their arms and walked to the building. It was a dirty looking building with remains of old posters that had been ripped off shabbily. The board read 'Takedown Boxing Academy', though it was nothing more than a room. They pushed open the glass door, which seemed like its hinges hadn't been oiled in centuries as it creaked deafeningly, almost making Tory wish she hadn't attempted to push it open.

"One more round! Come on, don't stop!" The instructor bellowed to the students, who flipped heavy car tyres across the room. He noticed the skinny girl with dirty blonde hair and the little boy with dark hair standing at the door and walked towards them. "Hi, how can I help you? Have you lost your way? The bus stop is right across the street." "No, I saw this place from the bus stop and it looked interesting, so I decided to check it out with my brother," Tory replied, not afraid of looking the burly man with curly auburn hair right in the eye. 

"Will you teach me?" Tory asked after watching the class for a while. "You? You're so skinny and weak, I don't think you'll last a week!" "That sounds like a challenge. I'll prove you wrong, just you wait." The instructor could have dismissed the scrawny girl, but she really seemed eager to learn, unlike most of the students there who just came for the heck of it. He honestly didn't think she was capable of this, but hey, he needed more students. "Okay, come on in. This is a week's trial run. If I don't like what I see, you won't be asked back. Is that understood?" "Yes, uh, sir." "I'm Kevin Johnson. You can call me Kevin."


	4. Half and Half

_**Present Day** _

"How is he? Has he woken up yet?" Tory couldn't bear to go into that hospital room, not after what she saw. She couldn't go in there and hear bad news again. Maybe there was a saying about second chances, but she didn't care. What if Miguel wasn't going to be okay? However much she denied it, she knew deep down that all this was partly her fault. Sure, it was LaRusso's fault for kissing Miguel, but maybe, just maybe, she could have sorted things out differently. More delicately? No, Johnny Lawrence had told them countless times that Cobras were not delicate. Okay, not delicate, maybe in a more...diplomatic way? She ran a hand through her straightened blonde hair and sighed. She wasn't the best with words. The incident with Jamie Johnson was enough to prove it. She closed her eyes and let out an agitated groan as the memory flooded her mind like it was yesterday.

She turned her attention back to Hawk, who was on the phone with someone. He had been visiting Miguel almost every day for the last two weeks. The doctors had assured them that he was still alive, but barely so. After two weeks in a coma and showing no signs of waking up, everyone was beginning to lose hope. That first day, the day after the school fight, she had made her way to the hospital and was just asking for Miguel Diaz's room when his mother, who worked as an X-ray technician spotted her there and gave her one of the most loathing looks she had ever seen. She had met the woman many times before, but this was nothing like the Carmen that Miguel had introduced her to.

Her eyes, red and puffy from crying, had long since lost the welcoming, motherly glow in them, replaced by a stony glare. "Get out of here," she had said, taking Tory by surprise. "But- I was here to see Miguel! How is he?" Carmen rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth going further downwards in a displeased frown. "You're the reason my Miggy is in this condition. The least you can do is stay away from him." Tory swallowed. That was harsh, but to be fair, the woman wasn't wrong either. "Yes, ma'am," she mumbled, eyes downcast. "For good." Carmen made it clear that she never wanted Tory anywhere near Miguel again, and had started to walk off. "Wait! If it's worth anything, I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I care about Miguel, I really do." Carmen said nothing, just stared at her for a long moment and went on her way.

Her mind drifted back to the present, where Hawk just hung up on whoever he was talking to, a relieved smile on his face. "What is it?" Tory asked, perplexed by his sudden change of mood while she was still waiting for an answer to her question. "Hawk! I asked you something!" He looked up from his phone, startled. "What? Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you the first time. What were you saying?" Tory sighed, exasperated with her friend. "I said, how's Miguel doing? I haven't had a chance to see him yet, but I hope he's alright. I mean, pretty much everyone has written off his chances of waking up because it's been two weeks..." Her voice trailed off, and she pulled her baseball hat further down to cover her eyes. She couldn't let Hawk see her cry. 

"Tory, you haven't had a chance to see him, or you _didn't want to_?" Hawk's question hit her like a slap in the face, and she groaned. Not this, not here, not in front of him! She had spent enough of her time blaming herself for Miguel's state amidst being expelled, community service and working two jobs a day. Life, honestly, was exhausting. "Tory, answer me. You can talk to me, you know that, right?" She hesitated. "I-I'm just...going through some stuff, okay? Just tell me that Miguel's okay, please." She knew that if she told him about the incident with Carmen, Hawk would probably talk to her and eventually convince her, but Tory wasn't exactly sure she was a welcome visitor. Hawk took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know what exactly is going on with you, and I never will, unless you tell me. _I'll_ help you out, Tory. We're Cobra Kai, for life."

Tory smiled slightly at that. _Cobra Kai_. She hadn't been to the dojo in two weeks. With everything that was going on, she barely had the money for rent, so paying for karate lessons was out of the question. "Maybe someday I'll tell you. I'm on top of it, don't worry about me." Hawk nodded. His face broke into a smile as he said the next few words. "Well, I'm here for you if you need me. I was just on the phone with Ms Diaz, and..." "And what? Is something wrong? He still didn't wake up?" Panic rose in her throat as Hawk paused for a second. Her eyes widened, clouded with fear. Her palms were sweaty again, as they were whenever the scene came to her mind. 

She heard herself screaming his name as he flew down two floors. She saw the blur of red from the hoodie he was wearing that day. She saw his face, wide-eyed with fear, arms flailing desperately, trying to cling on to something, anything, to break his fall. His mouth opened, about to emit a cry for help, but it never came. She saw him land on his back, with all the cuts and bruises, his left leg twisted at an odd angle. She heard Samantha LaRusso look up at Robby and scream, _"Robby, what did you do?"_ with the blood trickling down her lip and her eyes filled with unshed tears. She felt the whole school's eyes on her all over again, and she was labelled crazy, insane, mentally unstable, among the long list of names people used to describe her.

"Tory?" Hawk's concerned voice cut right through her thoughts. "He's awake. He woke up a few hours ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for not updating in almost a week, but between Christmas and New Year, I was just too caught up in the holidays. And of course, binge watching season 3 yesterday. Woah, that season was the best so far and I'm already impatient for the next one. Please do vote and comment if you like, and I'd love any feedback/suggestions from you, and even ideas for future chapters or works are most welcome!
> 
> Happy New Year!


	5. Now's Not The Right Time

_**Present Day** _

"Are you sure?" She asked, still unable to believe what she just heard. "Yeah, he wants to see you. He's been asking me for a while, now. Ever since I went to visit him the day he woke up." Tory smoothed her hair down, checking her reflection on her phone. "Miguel really wants to see me? Even after LaRusso visited him and probably filled him with bullshit about me?" Hawk shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just conveying the message. I don't know what Princess told him about you, or us, but if he wants to see you, you should go. He's still the leader of our pack, he's still the King Cobra, after all." Tory smiled wryly at that.

"Yeah, I've been dying to see him as well. I just hope this goes well. Do I look okay?" He nodded. "You look badass." Tory fist bumped him and turned to walk into the building, when Hawk stopped her. "Tory!" "What?" "You won't hurt him. Not again. He needs our support, not our spite. Please." She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Hawk. Like I would do that. And, stop being such a pussy." He shrugged. "You kinda would," he remarked, hands in his pockets. "And watch who you're calling a pussy!" "I won't, okay? I care about him, even after he kissed LaRusso!" Hawk smacked his palm on his forehead.

"Exactly. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Don't mention any part of this to him. Not yet, at least."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay." 

* * *

She asked around for Miguel Diaz, and was eventually shown to his room. Luckily, his mother wasn't around, or she would have had to leave again. Probably in one of the other wings of the hospital; she was at work, after all. She reached his door just in time to hear his exchange with Johnny. Her blood boiled at the sight of the blonde. What a pathetic excuse for a sensei! He was the reason Miguel was here. She wanted to just barge in and shove him aside, away from Miguel, but she tapped the wall repeatedly with her fists to restrain herself. She remained out of Miguel's line of sight, listening to every word between the mentor and pupil.

"Sensei, I did everything you taught me, I showed mercy. Then why did this happen to me?" Miguel's pained voice said, as his face contorted into a frown. "I...I don't know," Johnny began, looking down. Feeling guilty, probably ashamed of himself, but he deserved it. "You don't know?" Miguel asked, his tone of voice gradually on the rise. " _You don't know?_ " Johnny shook his head again. "I trusted you. I did everything you told me." Tory gasped at his shaking voice. This wasn't the strong, fearless, forgiving, badass Miguel she knew. The boy inside was weak, helpless, betrayed, frustrated with his situation.

"Miguel, I–" Johnny tried again to placate him, but Miguel interrupted him. "Look. At. Me." He said in a low growl, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Tory leaned forward, watching as his lip trembled and the tears fell, wetting his cheeks and then settling into the sea of blue of his hospital clothes and bed. "Get out of here," he sobbed, his body shaking uncontrollably. "Miguel, you can't–" "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! Please!" Miguel shouted; teeth bared, rage fuelling his words. Tory watched in shocked silence as Johnny left the room, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice her standing there.

Meanwhile, Miguel sat there, a tray of food on his lap and the last night's baseball highlights on TV. He sunk into the many pillows he was surrounded by as he stared blankly at the ceiling; quietly weeping. He had never looked so lonely, even though he was constantly surrounded by his loving family and friends who stuck around to tell him that he would be fine. Truthfully, that never helped. None of them actually knew what the poor boy was going through, and giving him false hope didn't help him, only them. "Oh, Miguel," Tory sighed to herself, a fresh wave of guilt washing over her. "What did I get you into?"

Suddenly, she didn't want to go in there. She knew that anything she would say to reassure him would be useless, and she couldn't think of any way that she could help. The _Get Well Soon_ card she bought from the gift shop near the reception now seemed like a waste of paper, and she crumpled it up and threw it into the dustbin. She was tough, she was one of the strongest fighters in Cobra Kai, but Tory couldn't bear to face him. She wouldn't be able to handle the hurtful words that might leave his mouth. Miguel had been one of the only people apart from her mother and brother who saw her for who she was, sympathised with her situation, offered her advice and made her feel wanted. He had been her pillar of strength. If he turned his back on her now, her already unstable world would come crashing down.

She blinked back tears that began to fill her eyes and made a dash for the other side. Hopefully, Miguel was too busy crying and wouldn't see her. "I'm sorry Miguel, but now isn't a good time," she said softly, looking into the room one last time. "I promise I'll come by when things are back on track." 

* * *

At some point, he realised that his tears were useless. He might never walk again, but throwing a tantrum in front of Sensei Lawrence and then sulking all alone wasn't going to magically move his legs. Heck, he couldn't even feel them! Every hour, his mother would come in on her breaks, talk to him soothingly and kiss him on his head. Miguel would smile and nod, saying positive things like, "Yeah, mom, I'm doing great. Don't worry about me!" or, "I'll be up and running again in no time, just you wait!" But in reality, he didn't feel even a fraction of that optimism. Doctors and nurses would come and go, check his blood pressure, ask him if he felt his legs, give him a few medicines and tell him that he's a strong young man.

He groaned as he lifted his head, that felt heavy, from the stack of pillows and struggled to sit up. He saw a flash of blonde hair by the door and sat bolt upright.

"Tory, is that you? Wait!"


	6. Jamie

**_2014_ **

Tory looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was watching. Her fingers trembled as she bent over and fumbled about in the last row, where they wouldn't notice. The confectionery aisle was deserted at this odd hour, for all the kids that swarmed around it were probably fast asleep. In the distance, adults bustled around the vegetable and dairy aisles, catching up with each other after a long work week. Tory's stomach rumbled, complaining about her meagre dinner of mushy ready-to-eat oats. With deep, shaky breaths, she reached out to grab a packet of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and snuck a quick glance around before shoving it under her oversized shirt, actually her mom's, that she had worn on purpose.

Her heart raced at a thousand miles per hour while beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. Never in the thirteen years of her life had she done something like this, but she was hungry. Telling her mom that was of no use, for Mrs Nichols would only lapse off into her rant about how she was sorry she couldn't give Tory a better life. She secured it in the waistband of her jeans and flattened it out against her stomach to make it look as inconspicuous as possible before adjusting her shirt so that the loose fabric fell over her stomach, covering the slight bulge.

The rustling under her shirt sounded like it was amplified a thousandfold and Tory's eyes darted around the place, certain that someone had caught her in the act. When no one so much as even looked in her direction, she wove her way through the sea of boisterous, partly intoxicated adults and finally made it to the exit of the department store. She stumbled onto the pavement, letting out a huge sigh of relief as she retrieved her bounty from its hiding place. She walked a little distance away from there and settled for a little wooden bench in the park.

"Do you really think you can get away with that?" Tory jumped at the sudden voice interrupting the silence. A tall girl jumped down from one of the trees. "I saw what you did," she remarked casually, her raven-black Dutch braids swinging as she jogged over to Tory.

"I...are you going to rat me out?" Tory asked, her heart hammering against her chest as fear grew evident in her eyes. The girl took slow, calculating steps towards her, a smug smirk drawn on her face. "Well, not if you share the wealth," she said, sitting down next to Tory. "Oh, yeah, yeah, sure." Tory offered her a peanut butter cup, and the girl snapped it up. "Mm, good stuff," she mumbled, her mouth full. "I love Reese's." She held out her hand, and Tory gave her another, rather hesitantly. "Are you sure you won't give me away?" "Nope. We're on the same boat." She rolled down her knee-high socks to reveal an assortment of candy bars; Snickers, Hershey's, Mars, Milk Duds, M&M's; you name it.

Tory's jaw dropped at the sight. "How did you–?" The girl laughed. "Been in the business for years, blondie. I'm no rookie." She pulled out a Hershey's and handed it to Tory. "Here, have one. Don't worry, it doesn't stink, I haven't had it in there for long." Tory allowed herself a small smile and accepted the chocolate. "What's your name, squirt?" She asked, lying on her back and letting the cool, slightly damp blades of grass tickle her neck. "I'm Tory." "Hmm, Tory... Nice name. Sounds a bit rebellious, like mine. I'm Jamie. Jamie Johnson."

"Johnson? Are you related to Kevin Johnson?" Jamie smiled. "Yeah, he's my uncle. How do you know him?" "I learn boxing from him?" "Oh, so you must be the 'little blonde girl' he talks about so much! Joined a few months ago, tiny compared to the other kids, stays back after class to practise?" Tory giggled. "Yeah, that's me, all right." "Tell you what, Tory. You and I, right here tomorrow. Same time. Maybe we'll hang out, get to know each other? How does that sound?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Jamie stood up and brushed the dirt off her skirt. She looked one, maybe two years older than Tory, her grey eyes, turbulent but calm at the same time. Like the ocean during a violent storm, enjoying tormenting all the ships that dared to cross it. Her pale skin was littered with freckles across her small, pointy nose and her lips stretched into a warm smile, revealing pearly, straight-set teeth. She had an intimidating, even unsettling edge to her, but she was oh, so beautiful. Her wrists were adorned with layers upon layers of colourful bracelets; chains, beads, friendship bands, thread woven bracelets; but one particularly stood out to her. It was a black band around which sharp metal spikes jutted out in every direction.

The older girl noticed her staring at the bracelet. "You like the bracelets?" She asked, turning her wrists to display them all. Tory nodded. "Yeah, they suit you. They're pretty and colourful." Jamie smiled and held out her wrists. "Which one do you like most?" Tory's fingers lightly brushed over her left forearm until they landed on the spiked bracelet. "This one. It's beautiful to look at, but deadly if put to that use."  
"I'm impressed. You look small, but you've got a lethal killer instinct. I like you." She took it right off and placed it in Tory's hand, closing her palm around it. "What? Why? It's yours!" Tory exclaimed, confused.

"Keep it. As a token of our friendship."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and commented! I love reading your comments; it helps me stay motivated, so please, if you have something, anything to say, or a suggestion for future chapters/stories, keep them coming!


	7. Burning Out

**_Present Day_ **

Tory stopped dead in her tracks as she heard Miguel call her name. She backtracked to the door, watching him as he sat upright with an expression she had never seen before. What did it mean? Did he hate her? Did he still like her? What exactly did he want to know? "Tory, why did you try to run away just now? Did you use that spiked bracelet on Sam? I saw the scars. Why would you do something like that? Why didn't you come to see me even once? Why-" " _Stop!_ Just stop it already! I can't handle your accusations and taunts as well; I have enough on my plate. I don't need you turning against me as well."

Tory stood there with clenched fists, her chest heaving as she stared at the dark-haired boy in disbelief. He didn't even ask how she was doing, didn't bother to enquire about how her family was holding up; whether her mother was doing okay; he just didn't seem to care. "That's not what I meant!" He protested, sighing in exasperation. "I know exactly what you meant, Miguel. Nice seeing you."

With that, Tory stormed out of the hospital, biting back the angry tears. She wanted nothing more than to destroy Sam at the moment. Rich brat sheds a few tears wherever she goes and gains everyone's sympathy. She never had to worry about rent, hospital bills, or expenses. One swipe of Daddy's credit cards and she had the world at her fingertips. "If only life were that easy," she muttered to herself as she checked her phone. "Shit, is it the last week of September already? I don't have the rent money!" With a million things to worry about, she felt the pressure on her young shoulders begin to weigh her down. She set her bag down on the sidewalk and collapsed on one of the benches. Her head slid into her hands as she felt the familiar sensation start to overpower her yet again. 

She took deep breaths, but she couldn't get any air in her lungs. Beads of sweat trickled down her face as she raised a trembling hand to wipe them off. Her heart was pounding in her chest like she had just sprinted five hundred metres. She panted, heaved, gasped for breath but never got any. She remembered what the counsellor had told her in freshman year. Slow, measured exhales would help her regain composure. She tried to close her eyes and focus all her attention on breathing out as slowly as possible, but all that came out was a choking gag. She felt the lump in her throat get bigger but didn't have the relief of letting it all out by crying. Her eyes started to water as the surroundings began to spin around. She grabbed the closest streetlight and tried to stand up, but her legs felt like jelly, shaking and numb.

She wildly fished in her bag for her phone, gripping it tightly with damp palms and scrolled until she found his number. _It's all going to be okay now,_ she thought, reassuring herself. It always was, when she called him. The minute she heard his comforting, affectionate words, calming her down, she would regain control of herself. Whenever he spoke, she could hear the smile in his voice. 

Just as she was about to click the dial button, she had the epiphany that threw out all the soothing thoughts that had only just found their way into her mind. She couldn't call Miguel for help anymore. Those days were over.  


* * *

Tory kicked the sewage pipe in anger, putting a huge dent in it. How dare he? Agreed, she didn't have money for rent yet, but she promised to pay it the next week, and she sure as hell wasn't using her mother's illness as an excuse! She was working two jobs to manage the expenses _while_ trying to get her GED, for crying out loud! She stood there seething as she remembered all the things Hank, the landlord, had said; insulting Miguel, taking her mother's condition for a joke, most of all, trying to blackmail her into...well, getting with him that night. She shuddered at the memory.

 _"Now, if you had a man, instead of a boy," Hank said, a smile twisting across his face, "maybe things would be easier for you... You wouldn't have to worry about things like rent, for instance," he finished, reaching out to brush a strand of her hair away from her face. Tory blocked his_ _arm_ _and held it in a position that she had practised one too many times. "I bet you wouldn't sound like a man if I broke your wrist!" She had figured, maybe that was that, and he'd stop hounding her with such psychotic propositions. But Hank was smart, he was conniving. He preyed on people's weaknesses, and he had a counter ready and waiting for launch._

_"Mm-mmm, I wouldn't do that," he warned. "What would your probation officer say?" Tory grunted in frustration and released him. The only reason she wasn't in juvie was that she has to take care of her mom, who was terminally ill. One more faux pas would be all that it took for the police to change their minds. "Think on what I said," Hank continued, smiling at her helplessness. "Maybe I'll see you tonight, and if I don't, I better see that cheque on the first!"_


	8. Weak and Strong

**_Present Day_ **

She wiped the water off her face, grimacing as the towel's rough surface brushed against the gash on her cheek. She stared at the girl in the mirror as she ran a finger along it lightly, from below her left eye to near her upper lip. It burned as she touched it, still an angry reddish-brown colour, but more than the pain, it stung of defeat. Her eyes fell downwards, the instrument of damage still donned on her wrist, its metal spikes glinting maliciously, as if to say that she got what she rightly deserved. What hurt was that while Miguel wasted no time in expressing his concerns about Sam, he never once noticed hers.

It was right in front of him the whole time, and who wouldn't notice a huge cut on the face of the person they were talking to? Miguel Diaz, that's who. She went to her room with renewed determination, a newfound resentment for him fuelling her to finally do what she should have a long time ago.

As she slipped on her gi, she felt confidence seep back into her, a sensation that she hadn't felt since the school fight. Involuntarily, a hand rose to her face, covering up the scar. She wondered what Sensei Kreese would say to that, to the fact that she lost to Samantha LaRusso, unable to offer any resistance.

_"Weakness is a sign of defeat, and defeat does not exist in this dojo; does it, Nichols?"_

She could almost hear Kreese's voice in her head, condemning her for the embarrassing show she put up against her rival. Her eyes caught the small, round box of foundation lying on the bed. She smirked. Where there's a will, there's a way.

She put her hair up in a ponytail and knotted her belt around her waist, looking at herself in the mirror again, only with pride instead of shame, this time. Biting her lip to hold back a wide grin, she tucked a loose strand of her honey-blonde hair behind her ear, hazel eyes wide open and alert, ready to stare the enemy down into surrender. She straightened her posture, took a deep breath and bowed to her reflection. Hands balled into fists, she raised them to her chest as she shifted her right leg behind into a forward stance. Her eyes radiated power as unmistakable rage flickered through every once in a while.

 _"No Sensei."_

* * *

"Damn, I'm going to be late again!" 

Tory hurriedly did her makeup in the bus as she headed to work, scouring her duffel bag for the tools and messing up her neatly folded gi inside. Sometimes, her eyeliner smudged when the bus swerved sharply, and other times, her lipstick would slide right off her lips and onto her cheeks when the driver braked suddenly. She made it work each time, nevertheless. Ever since she rejoined Cobra Kai, she felt a renewed energy coursing through her veins that motivated her to get on with her day, no matter what it brought her. It lifted a lot of her burden when Sensei Kreese offered to let her continue karate for free, and she didn't have to worry about rent as much anymore. Just yesterday, Hank had turned up at her door looking shaken. He had clarified that she no longer needed to pay her rent on time, in fact, she could go on living there for nothing. _Maybe things are looking up._

She smiled contently as Will texted her, saying that everything was okay at home. Her mother was stable, though slowly getting weaker each day. _What did Mom do wrong to end up in this state? She did nothing but help people all her life, even when she had far from enough herself?_ Tory pushed those thoughts away for another time as the bus pulled up to her stop. She walked across the road and turned right to the sushi restaurant she now worked at every afternoon.

Her watch showed 1:57 pm and she broke into a run, not wanting to be late the third time that week. Her eyes widened as she spotted a familiar face seated outside the restaurant. He was scrolling through something his phone, an amused grin on his face. She inhaled sharply when she noticed the wheelchair he was sitting on, she could never get used to seeing him like this. For as long as she'd known him, Miguel had been the best fighter around, and in between playful sparring and exchanging a few sly kisses, he'd always have a word of advice for her. 

"Miguel?" 

He looked up, equally mirroring her surprise. "Tory?" 

"How'd you know I worked here?" She was baffled, maybe even slightly bashful, that Miguel had actually tracked her down to clear the air. Perhaps he still did care about her, and didn't blame her for what happened.

Miguel frowned. "I didn't. I thought you worked at the roller rink." 

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. So much for that fantasy. Anyway, he was here, that was what mattered. "No, that's at night." She shifted uncomfortably, wondering if she could tell him the next bit of information. How would he react to it, given his little interrogation the last time they met? "I've got to work two jobs now. Mom's not doing well."

He nodded. "I'm sorry." 

Tory felt the same pang of guilt wash over her yet again. "No, _I'm_ sorry," she said, sitting down opposite him. "I should've come to see you. I...just didn't know how to help." She looked up to meet his brown eyes, in which lingered the emotion he had directed at her ever since he saw her at the hospital. _Doubt._

"So you did nothing." 

An awkward silence followed, as both hesitated to look each other in the eye, past memories undoubtedly playing through both their minds. Finally, Tory cleared her throat to say the words she had been struggling to for the past month. Her pride just wouldn't allow it, but with Miguel, she had always shed her veneer of arrogant indifference, allowing herself to be her true, vulnerable self, knowing that he would understand. So, why should this time be any different?

"I felt guilty about everything. What happened to you, it's all my fault." Miguel was staring at her intently, as if egging her on. She felt his questioning, even accusing gaze lingering on her and quickly returned to her defensive demeanor. "But we're doing everything we can to get back at Miyagi-Do for what they did to you! It's like Sensei Kreese says: if one of us gets hurt, we all get hurt."

Her chin jutted out in pride when she mentioned Kreese. That man had helped her out during one of the roughest times of her life, and she was not going to forget it. Miguel's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief at her words.

"Nobody else got hurt, Tory! I'm the one in a wheelchair, can't you see?" 

She could hear the dejection in his voice as he leaned back into the wheelchair, shaking his head at her mention of revenge. She hastened to rephrase her statement.

"I just meant that-"

"I know what you meant," Miguel interjected. "I never cared about Miyagi-Do, or Kreese; I cared about _us."_

Tory raised an eyebrow at that. "Did you? Or were you just going with me to get Sam's attention?" She spat.

There it was. The words she had sworn she wouldn't let out at him until he got better, just shot out before she could realise it. His face fell at her accusation, sighing in exasperation. "Is that what you think?"

"I saw you with her. I didn't have a choice."

"Yes, you did, Tory!" he shouted, startling her. "I know you're helping your mom, but... _you need help!_ "

Her jaw dropped. He said it. He finally said it, what everyone else thought of her. Even Miguel thought she was crazy, unhinged. Without a word, she got up, pushing the chair back violently and making a dash for the door. The tears blurred her vision, and she couldn't hold them in any longer. She couldn't keep up the _strong and unbreakable_ act anymore, with people at every corner wanting to test her limits, push her to the edge, and then claim that she was insane. She didn't give a shit about what people said. Let them talk! All that mattered was who won in the end. And it would be her, not LaRusso. But seeing it escape Miguel's lips... he had delivered the killing blow. 


	9. I Trust You

**_2014_ **

"Alright, Tory, are you ready?" 

"Ready for what? What are we even doing here, Jamie?" Tory looked around at the bustling corridors with trashy pop music blaring through the speakers. "It's not like we can even afford anything here that we can't get at the department store. You know, the fancy stuff."

Jamie laughed her tinkling laugh as she brushed her long hair back with her fingers. "Oh, sweetie, you're so innocent," she cooed, looking at the younger girl with her blonde hair in a messy braid. "We won't _buy_ anything, of course not! But we're still going to have some fun."

Tory eyed her warily, wondering what she meant by that. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a girl around her age come out of Claire's, both hands loaded with shopping bags from all kinds of shops. Her stomach twisted into a knot at the sight of all the purchases, wishing she could do the same. She let her gaze follow the girl around as she skipped about between her parents, stopping for ice cream. Tory forced herself to look away when the father leaned down to leave a little blot of ice cream on his daughter's nose, and they all laughed. She never knew her dad. He died when she was a toddler, and her mother just straight up abandoned her!

She sighed, turning her attention back to Jamie, who was rambling away about something.

"So, you understood the plan, right?" Jamie confirmed, finally finishing up her speech.

"What plan?" Tory asked, distracted by the thought of her biological parents. What was her mother doing now? Where was she?

Jamie let out an irritated sigh. "Don't tell me you didn't hear a word of what I said!"

Tory shook her head meekly. Jamie shrugged. "Fine. That's okay. Come with me."

"What are we doing here, Jamie?" One glare through the grey eyes seemed to ease all her queries, and she followed in silence. Finally, after several escalators and a million turns through that maze people called a mall, the girls found themselves in front of a Forever 21. Tory's brows furrowed in confusion. If they weren't here to buy anything, were they going to... No, that couldn't be right. She sighed dramatically as she saw Jamie untie the jacket knotted around her waist all this time and put it on, the sleeves hanging beyond her arms and the bottom of it nearly falling over her thighs. 

"Looks good?" She asked, shoving her hands into the pockets and mirroring the mannequin's pose beside her, a hand on her slender hips like she was posing for a picture on the red carpet or something. "Apparently this look is trending now."

Tory studied her ripped black jeans and her jacket that could pass off for a dress, unzipped till her chest, showing off considerable cleavage. Her eyebrows shot up so high that they could get lost in her hair while she tried her hardest not to cringe at the older girl's supposed "trending" style. 

"Uh," she began, wondering if she should tell her the truth, which would be, _Jamie, I find you exquisitely beautiful with your jet black hair and your silvery eyes, but right now, you look exquisitely ridiculous._ Instead, she cleared her throat and managed, "Well, you look... like a Christmas tree!" 

Jamie pursed her lips at the absurd assessment. "Is that a good thing?"

Tory nodded hurriedly. "Yes, yes, of course! You know, like the pleasurable sight that a brightly lit Christmas tree is... Uh, like how pleasing it is to look at- I mean, _you_ are... you know what I mean, right?" 

Jamie shrugged. "Thanks, I guess. Anyway, I'm not doing this for the style."

"What do you mean? Why else would you wear something so outrag- I mean, _outstanding_?"

_Way to go, Tory. Push her away from you, just like that. No, go on ahead and reveal the klutz you are, and you'll have a chance with Chris Hemsworth! Now shut up and listen to her. Don't embarrass yourself further, because the earth will NOT split down the middle and swallow you if you do._

"You'll see. Now, last question: Do you trust me?" 

Tory nodded and said the three words that, little did she know, would affect the rest of her life heavily. "Of course, _I trust you_. I know you'll always have my back."

Jamie smirked. "Great. follow me."

The first ten or fifteen minutes passed by relatively normally. Looking through sections, asking for their sizes, trying stuff on, taking mirror selfies. In the summer clothes section, a light pink dress caught Tory's eye. It was simple, without any print. Just black buttons running from the chest down to the hem, with a cord at the waist. Her fingers traced the slightly coarse, denim-like fabric as she spotted an employee nearby and called her over.

"Excuse me, do you have this one in extra small?" She asked, though she wouldn’t buy it. Just try it on and take a picture for her satisfaction. The woman raised an eyebrow in apparent surprise. Out of nowhere, she erupted into fits of laughter, her professional veneer falling off almost instantly. "You want your size in this? This isn't Target, blondie," she said, eyeing Tory from head to toe. Taking in the T-shirt that was fraying at the hems, and the little-too-big soccer shorts paired with sandals. _Sandals,_ really? Where did these lowlifes even come from? This was Forever 21, not some street-side strip mall.

"What?" Tory didn't understand the implication.

"Eyes on the price tag, doll," she hissed. "I hope you showered after your daily dumpster dive." She shot one last disgusted look at her before clacking away on her platform heels. Tory stood there in shocked silence, the words stabbing her like knives freshly drawn from the furnace. Her eyes stung with tears as her fingers tightened around the dress that caused all this drama. She felt a hand on her shoulder and whipped her head around sharply. 

"Whoa, easy there. It's me," Jamie said, putting up her hands in mock-surrender. "It's time."

"Time for what?"

"You trust me, right?"

"I already said I do."

Then, for no particular reason, Jamie led her to the winter section. "Ain't this a beauty?" She asked, pointing to the fourth coat in the rack, a dull beige one with nothing special about it. 

"I suppose," Tory mumbled, agreeing with Jamie because she didn't want to upset the other girl. 

"Great, maybe you want to try it on?" 

"What? No-" Before she could object, she was violently shoved into the coat rack that came crashing down, creating a domino effect and bringing all the adjoining racks with it. 

The ear-splitting sound of fifteen metal racks falling all at once brought half the customers and nearly all the employees to the scene. People whipped out their phones to record the incident, though what was there to record was beyond Tory's comprehension. She just sat there, entangled between metal rods and half buried in the sea of coats that were so soft that she could fall asleep on the pile right there. 

"Kid, are you okay?" A man helped her up, checking her for any injuries.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks." She smoothed her shirt down and frantically scanned the room for Jamie, anticipation building in her chest. Why did Jamie do this? Was this why she asked if Tory trusted her? What was going on with her?

"Well, if it isn't _Miss America_ again."

Tory turned around at the familiar voice and found herself face-to-face with the judgemental employee from before, who was still looking down her very long nose at her. "I knew you were trouble. Get out before I call security."

Tory's put out her arms at her side in the age old gesture of innocence. "But it wasn't my fault!" She protested. "There was another girl who came here with me, and she pushed me into the rack. I didn't do a thing, I swear!"

The woman looked around for said 'other girl', but there were no girls in sight. "Oh yeah? Who was she, your imaginary friend?" 

"What? This is insane. You think I'm lying-" 

"I _know_ you're lying, kid. Get your poor ass out of here before I call security. Am I understood?" 

There it was again. When would people stop treating her like an animal just because they had more money? Her cheeks flushed and her nostrils quivered in anger, struggling to hold in the tears. 

_Geez, Tory, you're such a crybaby. When will you ever stop being a little sissy?_

"I get it. I'm leaving." She wove her way out of the rows of brightly colored clothes with skimpy bikini models plastered onto the pillars. Her arms crossed, she dug her nails into the flesh of her arm, using the pain as a reminder that she was _poor_. Poor is useless, apparently, even if you have the potential to conquer the world. She wiped off the angry tears as she stumbled out of the cursed shop, only to find Jamie standing there with a wide grin on her face.

"Hey, you killed it!" She exclaimed happily, rushing forward to hug Tory.

_What the hell? I got humiliated in front of half the city and here she is, talking as though I won the Olympics. What am I missing?_


	10. Nightmare

**_Present Day_ **

It had been weeks since it happened, but it hurt like an open wound, festering and bleeding, but never truly clotting and healing. Sometimes the scabs would form, offering shelter and solace to the vulnerable flesh, carefully nursing it back to health until the devil called memory would come sauntering back in like an uninvited guest and rip it open, taking her all the way back to the start.

_He thinks I'm crazy. He thinks I need help. He's just like the others._

Tory assessed the situation before deciding on her next move. Hawk had her down on one knee and had pinned her right hand to her back. His arms snaked around her neck, bony fingers slithering towards the carotid pulse on her neck, in Sensei Kreese's signature move. If she didn't act fast, not only would he choke her to death, but also pinch the artery on her neck into temporarily ceasing the blood flow. Tory arched an eyebrow. This was new. The neck pinch wasn't something that Sensei had taught them in class, yet he was giving him an approving nod; the go-ahead to finish her... Was he training Hawk privately? How was that even fair?

Her mind wandered to the previous day's incident, and she shuddered.

_She had been out all day. First Cobra Kai, then working at the restaurant, and then the roller rink. She usually came home to check on her mom in between the two shifts, but she ran into a group of friends on the way home and ended up forgetting all about it. By the time she finally got home, it was quite late at night. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and she wanted nothing more than to crash right into bed. She pushed the door open and found Will running up to her in tears. "Willy, what's wrong?" She asked, putting an arm around him, but he pushed it away._

_"Why wouldn't you answer your phone? Why didn't you come home earlier?" He cried, accusing green eyes glaring at her through the tears._

_"I'm sorry, it died halfway through my shift. And I was hanging out with some friends. What's the big deal anyway?"_

_"The big deal, is that something's wrong with Mom!"_

_Tory bolted into her mother's room to find the dialysis machine beeping abnormally while the bed was damp all over. Her mother just laid there, taking short, laboured breaths as she desperately fidgeted with the oxygen cannula, fumbling about with it, trying to fit it back in her nose with shaking fingers._

_"MOM!" She grabbed the cannula and gently secured it around her mother's nose, the snubs going into her nostrils while the tubes went around her ears and rejoined under the neck._

_"Will, get in here, now!" Her brother promptly arrived, his face ashen with fear. "Hand me the oximeter!" He tossed it to her, and she clipped it to her mother's index finger, running a hand through her hair as she watched the numbers slowly rise to ninety-eight._

_"Mom... Mom, look at me. It's Tory. Mom! It's okay, I'm here. I'm right here, can you hear me?" Mrs Nichols frantically grabbed at Tory's wrist and pulled her close; her eyes had a wild, terrified look in them that made_ _Tory_ _take in a sharp breath. She felt the weird sensation in her chest building up again, and the lump in her throat began to form once again._ _Her ears were ringing, but she repeatedly slapped her thigh with her free hand, pushing it all down for the moment._

_"Not now, Tory, hold it in, control," she muttered to herself, cringing when she realised how out of a Disney movie it sounded, while trying her absolute best not to have a panic attack right there. She kneeled to her mom's level, stroking her damp palms softly, reassuringly._

_"Mom, you're okay, do you understand? Just relax. Close your eyes, and breathe normally._ _I'm right here, okay?" She heaved a sigh of relief when she felt her mother's tense muscles slowly beginning to relax, and she gradually began to breathe relatively normally._

_"Good enough," she mumbled, turning her attention to the machine now that the oxygen was stable._ _Everything looked fine, when a little red light blinking on the far side caught her eye._

_"Of course, it just had to run out today!" She clenched her fists, trying not to take out her agitation on the machine, though every muscle itched to kick the damned thing out of the room._

_She cautiously retrieved the charging cord, fastening it in such a fashion that it stayed away from the oxygen concentrator. The insufferable red light finally turned to an orange one._

_"Thank goodness," she breathed, sighing deeply. She turned around to face her mother once again, knowing that she had to clean her up now._ _She found her mother fast asleep instead, and allowed a small smile to light up her tired face. Within a few minutes, she changed and collapsed onto the floor mattress in the same room. She slept here now, in case something happened at night, while Will occupied her room._

_That was a close shave, and Tory kicked herself for not coming in sooner that day. What could have happened if she was a little later? No... it was best to focus on the present. Her eyes fluttered shut and the incident vividly presented itself to her yet again in her sleep, giving her the nightmare of her life._

Distracted by her chain of thoughts, she didn't notice him tighten his grip around her neck, dipping her forward to increase the pressure on her arm. Tory yelped as she felt jolts of pain run up her arm to her shoulder. She couldn't think straight, much less focus on the ongoing fight with the blood rushing to her ears, pounding into her eardrums like a roaring waterfall. Her throat threatened to close up, denying her fresh air as she felt his bony fingers press harder and harder.

In time, black spots danced in front of her, and her head began to spin. She would've dropped to the ground if it weren't for him still holding her in place. Cobra Kai was no child's play; every attack here was directed at the opponent to maim, inflict pain, be it in the dojo or outside it. But Tory wasn't worried. Not even a little bit.

 _This is when he lets go,_ she thought, forcibly exhaling to ward off the dizziness. _This is the part where he lets go, pulls me up and asks if I'm okay. And that's where I counterattack, and we laugh it off between kisses._ She saw the entire dojo just standing there in pin-drop silence, eyes wider than saucers. _Why isn't Tory fighting back? Does she have a death wish?_ Hawk was puzzled as he held the girl in the lethal chokehold, with close to no attempt from her to free herself. He began to worry and tried to loosen his grip on her, but a glare from Sensei Kreese made him forget all about their friendship. He pressed harder. If she didn't fight back, it was her problem. _He_ wasn't going to go soft anytime soon. Unlike a certain Sensei who was no more than a traitor.

_He would never hurt me. He's going to let go any second now._

"Miss Nichols, what is the problem?" Kreese's sharp voice yanked her right back to reality. With a start, she realized that her captor wasn't Miguel. It was Hawk. She groaned and cursed under her breath for the moment of weakness. Miguel was gone from the dojo, maybe temporarily, but most certainly gone from her life.

_"Nichols!"_

Gasping for breath, she felt energy oozing out of her like air out of a deflated balloon. She could barely comprehend her surroundings, about to concede defeat when survival instinct kicked in. She mustered up all the strength she had left in her and headbutted him in the nose. Nothing. Gritting her teeth as a searing pain shot up her arm, she used the other one to elbow him in the ribs, his grip finally faltering. Her hands flew up to her neck, grabbing his and snapping them apart.

Not letting go, she stood up and twisted both his arms to the inside; she could break them with just a bit more twisting. His face contorted into a pained grimace, while his eyes pleaded with her to let him go.

"Tory, please," he croaked, his eyes wide in horror. "Don't do it."

A collective gasp escaped all the other students' mouths. She noticed Assface– Mitch, whatever, shake his head wildly, mouthing, "No, no, no," while the redhead put his head in his hands.

Teeth gritted, gi damp with sweat, she eyed the boy in front of her, before scrutinizing everyone else. So many people liked Hawk. Everyone feared her as they did Hawk, but no one admired her and followed her around as they did to him. They didn't care for her as they did for him. Assface practically worshipped the guy! So much concern for Hawk, but none for her when he was mere seconds away from killing her not more than a minute ago. Why? Was she not worthy of being loved? Was it evident that she'd lose because she was a girl?

At that moment, every injustice in her life flashed before her eyes, and she was certain that fire was coursing through her veins.

"Finish him!" Kreese bellowed from the corner.

_"Yes, Sensei."_


	11. You Never Asked

_**Present Day** _

"Finish him!"

"Yes, Sensei." Hawk let out a defeated sigh, shaking his head in embarrassment. Tory hesitated for a minute, looking her friend right in the eye and wondering what they were doing here. Cobra Kai was for them to learn to fight as a team and destroy the enemy, not destroy each other. What happened to 'Cobra Kai for life'? Or, like Sensei Kreese used to say, 'A fellow Cobra is the handiest weapon you could possess in a fight.'

_Hawk promised that he'd always have my back. He said I could rely on him for help, so why are we still here?_

"What is the problem, Nichols?" Tory turned around, her hazel eyes met Kreese's narrow, displeased ones. He looked at her opponent. "And you, what is wrong with the two of you today? Even that little pussy Bert would have put up a fight!"

"I'm sorry, Sensei," Hawk mumbled, while Tory instantly tightened her grip on his wrists.

"I don't give a shit about your apology! You don't apologise to the enemy. Just... Just finish the goddamn fight already!"

Tory felt all the remorse drop away as suddenly as it came, and the jealous rage gripped her once again. _Why did he get to be the privileged one everywhere?_ She roared in frustration and twisted his arms further into each other, but Hawk wasn't one to run away from a fight anymore. He mouthed, "You're dead meat," as he lunged forward and thrust his heel into her chest with full force, his yell echoing through the dojo. Tory stumbled backwards, clutching her stomach. Hawk took full advantage of her momentary weakness as he reached forward and aimed his punch for her face. Tory realised it a moment too late, and by the time her hand rose to block him, it had already made contact.

Narrowly missing her nose, his iron knuckles banged into her cheek, right below her eye. When he withdrew his hand, he examined the pasty skin coloured liquid smeared all over his fist until his pupils dilated and eyes darted from side to side, rapidly. For the fraction of a second, Tory could have sworn she saw fear in his eyes as his hand flew up to his face, covering his upper lip and nose. _What was he doing?_ His strange behaviour lasted for barely a moment, and soon, he removed his hand, pushed his shoulders back and puffed his chest out, regaining his proud demeanour.

He looked at his hand again, with a knowing but slightly baffled expression this time.

"Who the hell uses this much foundation?" He demanded, walking right up to Tory. She stepped back avoiding his gaze until her back hit the wall with a soft thud. She knew that there was no way of hiding it now. Might as well get it over with. Hawk put out two fingers and gently, carefully brushed her cheek until all the foundation rubbed off to unearth it at last.

She saw his jaw drop as his eyes fell on the horrendous gash that seemed to just have nearly missed her eye. It still hadn't healed completely, for Tory would often rub it in frustration, or when she felt helpless about the situation she was stuck in, which happened a lot, she would press hard on the wound and use the pain as a reminder that the world showed no mercy, so sitting around and wallowing in self-pity wasn't going to change things.

"What...?" Hawk asked, taking in the deep cut. "How did it happen?"

Kreese tutted slightly as he walked over to them, the rest of the students following and soon crowding around Tory. "Not what, _who_ did this, Nichols? Who did you lose to?"

Tory tried to ignore the amusement in his voice as he took slow, soundless steps towards her.

"Who'd you lose to, Nichols?" He hissed, letting his thumb trail over her face. Tory flinched at Kreese's touch, while her mind cowered at the thought of what he'd do if, no, when he found out who did it. Kick her out of the dojo? Probably. But that would be the least of it. His long, unexpectedly perfectly clean nails lingered on the scab a moment too long, digging into it and bringing on a fresh stream of blood. "Oh dear, so sorry..."

"Did you just flinch?" His smirk widened before disappearing, replaced with his shaggy eyebrows frowning at her. "Who was it? Tell me! Unless..." He raised an eyebrow at her, hinting at the obvious.

Tory screamed in pain, cupping her cheek and sinking to the floor. She couldn't help but let a few tears fall, cutting through a whole new layer of pain as they flowed through the wound and onto her gi in a splatter of pink.

"Fine! I'll tell you, okay?" She said, slowly getting back up, her back still stuck to the wall. _Don't do it! Don't tell him!_ Her mind protested, dreading the inevitable. _God, Tory! Don't. Do. It! Make something up, if you want. Don't say her name._ She just stood there feeling like a lost cause, a naive little mountain goat that entered the wolf den. A frog that jumped right into the Cobra's mouth. And she was petrified. She took a deep breath. _Make something up._

"I...I was practising one time and I didn't realise that I had my spiked bracelet on. So, when my hand went up to wipe the sweat off...well, yeah. There you have it." She eyed the old man warily, her insides flooding with relief when he finally tilted his head to a side and smiled sympathetically.

"Follow me." Kreese simply walked into the back dojo, not even looking over his shoulder to see that she was coming.

Tory stood up reluctantly. Every part of her silently screamed not to follow, but she knew better than to disobey John Kreese.

* * *

"Tory?"

She turned around at the sound of her name and found herself face to face with–

"Robby... What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Same as you, I suppose," he said, waving a half-full garbage bag at her. Tory grimaced, before realising that she had one in her hands as well.

"Community Service sucks," she remarked pointedly before tossing stray soda cans into her trash bag. "We're cleaning dirty parks in the area today, yay!"

Robby chuckled lightly at that. "You sound like a second-grader who's been forced to do your homework when your friends are already waiting for you downstairs."

Tory shot a glare at him before picking up a paper bag with something brownish that was either yoghurt or melted ice cream smeared all over it. Hopefully, it was just one of those two. Nothing else. Looking around at the other kids who were doing community service too, she suddenly felt lonely. They all had their little groups, and even though this was no party, they looked happy with their friends. She had no friends here, obviously. Apart from Cobra Kai, another small group of friends and two or three coworkers was all she had.

And none of them started a school-wide brawl that resulted in a student being kicked off the second floor and into a coma, and quote, deliberately attempted to injure a fellow student with the use of weapons, unquote. So she had no one to talk to. She stood up to see Robby's green eyes staring back at her, a silent question lingering in them.

"Tory?"

"What is it?" She snapped, trying her best not to drown in the insanely deep emerald pool that swirled about in those eyes.

"What happened there?" He asked, gesturing to her face. She groaned inwardly. Not this again. Not here. Not after what happened at the dojo.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, turning away to grab another garbage bag.

"Who did this?" Robby was persistent, she had to give him that. And, he _was_ the only one who noticed, asked her on his own accord. Not as an accidental discovery during a sparring fight, not as a threat. Merely, out of _concern?_ That's what it seemed like. Why was Robby Keene the only one who she felt like she could trust, even though he was the one who kicked Miguel off that railing?

This boy was her mortal enemy, LaRusso's boyfriend, probably, ex-boyfriend now. But here he was, light brown hair falling over his eyes in his new cut, eyebrows knitted together and a hand hesitantly reaching out to touch the wound, but stopped halfway.

"LaRusso. Sam LaRusso did this." Tory nearly choked out the name, for it brought back bitter memories, and a wave of embarrassment and pain. She had no one that day. Miguel was out of the picture, probably dead himself, she had presumed, Hawk and the rest had disappeared. Aisha had gone off as well. And there was Samantha, snatching the bracelet and slashing it across her cheek. Robby gasped.

"Sam wouldn't– would she?" His doe eyes widened in shock, disbelief, and slowly, anger seeped into them.

"She would. She did. You wouldn't believe the things she said to me right after they rushed Miguel to the hospital. She used my own weapon against me," she smiled sadly, bringing up her wrist to reveal the spiked bracelet.

"I'm sorry. For...you know, this, and what I did. I didn't mean to kick him off, and ever since, I've been terrified that he–"

"He's alive."

"Wh–what?" Robby asked, incredulous. Apparently, he hadn't heard yet. How come?

"He's alive," Tory repeated, her expression softening. "He woke up a few weeks ago. How come you never heard?"

Robby looked down, his toes fiddling with his shoelaces. "I couldn't sit through the news. You know, in case I heard the worst. I was terrified, and I spent weeks wondering if I'm a murderer. Did I kill someone? I couldn't wrap my mind around what I did, so I just...ran."

He looked up to meet her eyes, and Tory could see that he was earnest. She didn't see a ruthless delinquent in him like everyone else; she could see a scared child, a young man who had caved in to the struggles hounding him from all directions. She could see that he hadn't forgiven himself, even if the rest of the world did. She saw a misunderstood, misled soul, someone who did everything that everyone said to shine in their eyes, to win their approval, to be loved. She saw...a part of her in him.

"Robby, I– you have no idea how it felt when I saw Miguel fall. In all honesty, I wanted to hunt you down and, well, deal with you myself." She sighed, shutting out the memory of the fateful day, when she thought she lost yet another person she loved. She looked at the boy, he was still waiting for some kind of response or reaction. It was almost like he was bracing himself for her wrath.

"How long till you get out of juvie?"

"A month and a half, probably. Not sure."

She took a step forward, and Robby tentatively stepped behind, his hands at his sides, ready to protect himself. Slowly, gingerly, she reached for his face, and Robby tensed up.

"Ssh, it's nothing. Just...something on your face." She pulled out a leaf that was caught in his hairline. "Unless you want this adorning your head."

Robby smirked. "Thanks."

"You know, I understand what you're going through. I've been through something similar, just not this intense." Robby just stared at her wordlessly, and she did the same. His hand went up to her shoulders, pulling her closer. Tory, in a trance of her own, didn't resist him. They leaned into each other, eyes closed, Tory's hands around his neck, when someone blew a whistle from the far side of the park. They pulled away in a hurry, looking around to make sure nobody saw them.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," Robby said, rubbing the back of his head. "That escalated real quick."

Tory slapped her forehead with her palm. "I'm sorry, too. Didn't know what I was thinking."

"So, we're cool about this...?"

"Yeah. It never happened."

Someone in the distance called Robby's name, so he nodded a quick goodbye and jogged over to the voice.

"Robby, wait!"

He turned, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"You know, you can count on me if you need anything. I've got your back."


	12. Queen Cobra

**_Present Day_ **

"Follow me. Class dismissed, the rest of you." Kreese walked into the smaller room at the back of the dojo, near his office. He opened the door to reveal walls lined with weapons, weights and training equipment of various kinds. There was a cupboard, and Tory couldn't gauge its contents when he opened it. In a swift move, he pulled out a paper-thin sheet of something and laid it across the floor. He motioned for her to come closer to it. Tory fingered the scar on her cheek, wondering what awaited her here.

"Down, Nichols. Fists tight, knees up. Fifty knuckle pushups." 

Tory shrugged. Big deal, she did this every day. She obliged, finishing about ten pushups before Kreese stopped her. "Not there, Nichols. On this sheet." 

"What is this, Sensei?" She asked, puzzled. The transparent sheet was barely a few millimetres thick, laid out unsuspectingly on the floor. 

"No questions, just do as you're told," Kreese snapped, positioning himself in front of the sheet, arms crossed and watching keenly. Tory nodded and got to it, tightening her fists and resting the first two knuckles of each hand on the smooth surface, cold to the touch. Barely five pushups in, there was a crack in the sheet, and her fists sunk right into it, causing her to scream as shards broke off the sheet and dug themselves into her knuckles. The sharp pain as it cut through her skin and pierced something deep inside, while an icy chill ran through her bones before blood spurted onto the floor, soiling her gi and soaking into the mat.

"What the hell?" She asked, struggling to get up as the world spun around. Kreese kneeled and leaned towards her, his features slowly blurring. Kreese chuckled, his eyes narrowing to slits before he spoke, his voice calm and patient like a teacher explaining basic addition to a class of five-year-olds.

"Are you familiar with the phrase, 'walking on thin ice'?" He asked, reaching over to pick up one of the glass shards and held it in front of her, for Tory to see. She gulped and nodded. She could see where this was heading.  
She shivered, her gi pants sticking to her legs, the white fabric now a threatening red. "I asked you a question, Nichols. Are you familiar with the phrase, or not?"

"Yes, S-Sensei," she stammered, resisting the urge to fold her knees into her chest and hug them tight, to curl into a ball and shut the world out.

"I can't hear you, Nichols!" He snarled. Tory met his eyes, seeing an unforgiving fire crackling away in them. 

"YES, SENSEI!" She said, louder. Kreese continued to stare at her. 

"What does it mean, Nichols?"

She saw the sparkling shard of glass in his hand, still held out in front of her face. It reflected light off the bulbs in the room, creating a breathtaking spectrum of rainbow colours within it. Her eyes drifted towards the spiked bracelet on her wrist, flashing back to the moment she first laid eyes on it.

_"This one," she said, eyes shining as the older girl slipped it off her hand and closed it in Tory's palm. "It's beautiful to look at, but deadly if put to that use."_

Tory's eyes moistened at the memory of Jamie, wondering where all that time went. Black hair falling over her back in dark waves, fluttering in the wind as she turned her dainty head ever so slightly to look over at Tory and flash that brilliant smile that aroused a sparkle in those silvery eyes. Tory sighed, dismissing the memory as her fists throbbed, bringing her back to the horrific present. _I think that's the case with all things lethal;_ she thought. _Stunning, absolutely exquisite to the eyes. But appearances can be, no, are always deceptive._ She took a deep breath and looked Kreese in the eye. 

_Let's get this shit over with._

"It means, doing something extremely risky despite being aware of the consequences," she said, feigning confidence. 

"Precisely," he said, standing up. "So, now that we've understood that, why don't you tell me what _really_ happened?"

"Um... What I told you last time," she lied, trying to get away with it before Sam LaRusso's name fell from her lips.

Kreese arched an eyebrow, his surprise growing before he shook his head in mirthful laughter. "Ah, Tory," he chuckled, calling her by her name for the first time. "I thought we were past the part where we lie to one another."

Tory stayed silent, eyeing him with distrust. Who knew what he would do when he heard that she lost to Samantha? She looked down at her bloody knuckles, the blood slowly thinning out and drying.

"Come on, you can tell me. Who did this? You merely cracked the ice, and I sure hope you wouldn't like to fall through, now, would you?" Kreese asked, his tone dropping to a soft, understanding one. He looked worried about her. "Who was it?"

Tory looked at him, and he nodded, slowly. His eyes softened, imploring her to instil her trust in him. Pleading with her to let him help. She pursed her lips, weighing the consequences, and eventually, the good outweighed the bad. It was Sensei Kreese. The man who offered to teach her for free. She could trust him, right?

She took a deep breath and sighed. "Alright," she said, finally. "It was LaRusso."

Kreese frowned. "What? That son of a bitch attacked a kid? I'll show him not to mess with my students!"

"No! Sensei, of course not. It wasn't Daniel LaRusso. Oh, no, he wasn't even there. It was his prissy little daughter, Samantha. She did this."

"When?" Kreese was all ears, his mind already at work.

"At the school fight. After... After what happened with Miguel. She caught me off guard and attacked me with this," Tory held up her spiked bracelet.

"I see."

Tory stood up, head bowed. "I should get going," she said. "I'm probably off the team, right? Thanks for everything, Sensei."

"Nichols, wait. Come back here."

Tory turned around to face him, and he gestured towards the first aid kit. "Patch yourself up. You'll need it."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Tory asked, dumbfounded. "I lost a fight to my rival. I lost to a _LaRusso_. Why are you still allowing me in here?"

"Why am I not kicking you off the team, you ask," he said, pacing the mat. "You, Nichols, are a natural fighter. You have it inside you, it's ingrained in your blood, and this doesn't come as naturally to everyone. You know how tough the world is out there, you know what it takes to win, and you have it in you to win. What's one loss in the making of a champion, eh?" He puffed at his cigar, smiling at her.

Kreese extended his hand, his expression earnest. "I will protect you, Tory. I'll train you to be the best of the best. You have the potential to be the most lethal fighter in the history of Cobra Kai. You have the potential to be the best student I've trained, even better than Johnny. You're strong, you're tough as nails. You have the agility, both physical and mental. No one will dare to even look in your direction with the wrong intentions. All you have to do is say yes."

Tory looked at the old man, and couldn't help but smile. She didn't know what was dreading back then, but here he was, offering her his protection and allegiance. He seemed to be the only one who cared. The only one she could trust in the constant see-saw of a world that she lived in.

"So, are you in, or not?"

She nodded and took his outstretched hand.

"All in, Sensei." 

* * *

"Tory, table five has been waiting for ten minutes!" The manager shouted from across the counter.

"Sir, I thought it was Linda's!" Tory called back, trying to make herself heard over the din of the roller rink.

"Don't know where she went! Someone needs to take it. Keep the tips, if you'd like! Now go!"

Tory skated over to the table overlooking the roller rink. Fond memories of her 80s night date with Miguel came to mind, and she sighed. Why did every place remind her of him? As she approached the table, she put on a wide smile and rattled off the mandated greeting. The man had his nose buried into the menu, not even looking up when she arrived.

"Hi, welcome to All On Wheels! My name is Tory, and I'll be your server tonight. What would you like?"

He put down the menu and smiled at her. Tory's breath caught in her chest.

"Hi, Tory. It's fantastic to meet you. I'd like a civil conversation, if you don't mind."

"M–Miguel?" Tory couldn't believe her eyes. No way was this happening again. She hadn't seen him in nearly three months

"Yeah?" Miguel was wearing the same red leather jacket he wore the last time, except that the Cobra Kai patch had been removed, Tory noticed. The wheelchair was gone, replaced by a pair of crutches instead, leaning on the other side of the table.

"Is this what you do? Sneak up on me every time I'm at work?" She snapped, the hurt from their previous conversation filling her chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what happened at the party. I never should have kissed Sam, that was a mistake. I swear I didn't have feelings for her."

"And I'm supposed to, what, forgive you and dramatically fall into your arms?" She asked, putting Miguel on edge.

"No– no, just hear me out, please. I'm here to clear the air," he said, his face taking on the pouty expression she knew she could never resist.

"Yeah? Well, what is it that you have to say, apart from calling me crazy?" Tory said coldly, sliding into the seat.

"Look, I never said that. Stop reading into things," he began, calmly, but Tory cut him off.

"Reading into things?" She demanded, staring at him like he was spouting words in Latin. "You're the one that clearly said that I need help. Don't try to back away from it now!"

Miguel sighed. "Tory. I never said the word crazy. I said that you have so much going on in your life, and you can't possibly handle it all alone. All I said was, you need help. In the sense, you need someone by your side. To hear you out when you're frustrated, to support you when you're uncertain."

"Uh-huh? And who do you suggest, might I know?"

"Me. What I meant that day was that I wanted to help you; I wanted to be there for you again. I know that you're going through tough times, and I want to help you get through them. I'm truly sorry about all of it. I mean it."

Tory didn't know what to say. She was lost for words. Here was Miguel, apologising and begging for another chance. He wanted to help, and honestly, she could use it. But how could she ever believe him again? He kissed her rival, Samantha fucking LaRusso that night! He didn't even bother to acknowledge her injury that day at the hospital, instead asking why she hurt Sam. Her mind was a mess. She looked into his chocolate brown eyes, kindness and guilt apparent in them. His kind, bashful smile made her feel weak at the knees again.

She longed to feel his strong arms wrap around her again, to feel his lips on hers, melting away all her worries. She craved his low, soothing voice in her ear, whispering sweet encouragement before a sparring match. She missed _him._

"Tory? Do you forgive me?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I need some time."  
  



	13. Crossroads

_**Present Day** _

Tory stood up and made to leave. "Is there anything you want? Like, off the menu?" She asked Miguel, proceeding to do what she had originally come for. The boy shot her a pained look as he shook his head.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," He said glumly. "I'm going to go." 

Tory nodded. "You should."

She skated away and was just about to ask a table what they wanted to order when she heard a loud crash. "Excuse me, I'll be right back. I should go see what happened there," she apologised, swiftly pocketing her notepad and hurrying towards the direction of the noise. She found Miguel sprawled on the floor near the table he was sitting at earlier.

"Oh, my- Are you okay? What happened?" She asked, helping him up. He smoothed his clothes and grunted in response. 

"Not used to crutches yet," he said, grabbing her arm for support as he stood up again. He swayed from side to side as he bent over to pick up his crutches that were strewn across the floor. Tory wrapped an arm around his waist and held him back.

"Don't. I've got it," She handed him his crutches and watched as he secured his grip around them. Miguel and Tory stared at each other for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts of the other, wondering what the other was thinking.

"Thanks," Miguel said, breaking the silence. Tory took in his poor attempt at taming his dark hair, and the red leather jacket shining under the lights of the roller rink.

"T–That's okay." She turned around once again, only to be stopped by Miguel, again.

"Tory!"

"What?"

"Does this mean you forgive me? Are we good again?" Miguel asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

"No," Tory said, shortly. "You needed the help. Anyone would have done it."

His face fell as she glared right at him. "Why not?" He asked, at a loss of understanding why she wasn't ready to start over.

Tory glared daggers at him, taking a step forward so that their faces were mere inches away from each other.

"All my life, things have been less than easy for me," she said, her hazel eyes burning holes into his soft, brown ones. "If I want something, I've got to work my ass off for it. If I fall for someone, they always end up stabbing me in the back. I hoped you'd prove me wrong, but here we are. What makes you think that I'd give you a second chance? I don't get things handed to me on a platter, understand?"

"You're talking as though I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I'm no rich brat, I've had my fair share of struggles too! I can't walk five steps without falling flat on my face!" Miguel relented, refusing to give up.

"Exactly. So you know what I'm talking about. You say that you've never been spoilt. You say you're struggling. Well, guess what? You have a happy family; a mother and grandmother that love you so much. You never have to worry about putting food on the table or paying medical bills, so stop whining like a pussy."

She couldn't bear to see his pretty face, begging for forgiveness and expecting her to relent. She wasn't going soft, not like Johnny. She would not forgive him, nor was she going to forget how he humiliated her with Sam. Her blood boiled as she remembered how Miguel kissed Sam that night, his hands holding her close, his touch tender and caring like she was a precious china doll.

"Tory! I've had to fight for so many things in my life, I never had my problems solved by someone else. And I'm sorry about your situation, but you can't blame it on me. It's not my fault that your mom–"

That was it. Tory couldn't hear another word of his shoddy attempt at redemption by listing out his problems.

" _Enough!_ " She shouted, slamming her notepad on the table. "You say you've had to fight for things, yet you expect an easy catch with me. Why? Work for my forgiveness. Fight for me, if you want to earn my trust. Besides, you've got it much better than I have, so stop complaining and make the best of what you have. You're not the one whose mother is dying!" Her chest heaved in rage, and she tugged at her hair lightly to calm herself.

Miguel could see the dark circles around her eyes from days of disturbed sleep, probably staying up for her mother. He felt guilty and wanted to hold her hands in his and tell her he'd be there for her. He wanted to run his hands through her hair and rub circles around her wrists when she had panic attacks, to hold her close and protect her from her nightmares. He wanted to wake up to her calls in the early hours of the morning, hearing her say that she had a nightmare. He wanted to comfort her, offer to watch her brother while she went to work like he used to. 

He wanted to be of some use to Tory, to make sure she knew she was a force to be reckoned with, to be strong enough for her when she couldn't be. One kiss with his drunk ex was all it took for it to go downhill, and he regretted it every day.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Just... know that I'm here if you need me."

Tory scoffed at his retreating figure. "I've been managing just fine for the last few months, thank you very much!" She called, before storming back to the table she had been attending to.

He sighed. So much for second chances. 

* * *

"Hey, you guys want to hit up Golf N' Stuff tonight?" Hawk asked as they all stretched after class.

"And do what?" Rickenberger asked, shrugging off the idea. "That place is for kids, anyway."

Hawk smirked. "Getting back at those pussies at Miyagi-Do for what they did to Miguel, of course. That traitor Chris, the one we called douchebag, works there now. And the timing couldn't be better; I heard _Sensei_ LaRusso is out of town."

Any opportunity to get even with LaRusso was tempting enough to Tory. "I'm in," she said, looking around at the rest, giving them a silent order to come, or else. Immediately, three of them nodded a yes. Tory smiled as she bent forward, touching her forehead to her knees. _I like that they fear me. That's how it should be._

"Alright then, the beer's on you, Assface." Hawk stated, walking off in the bathroom's direction to change.

"Tory, don't let go of LaRusso this time! Make her pay for everything," Red said, throwing loose punches in the air.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. I'll make that bitch regret ever being born," Tory laughed, before slapping his arm lightly.

"What?" He asked, rubbing his arm.

"Don't just stick your punches there, one after the other! Make the movement smooth and turn your wrist only in the last four inches. Replace your hands faster."

Red groaned. "Dude, what the hell? I wasn't practising for real. Stop being such a control freak!"

"Well, you're Cobra Kai. Every punch you throw should be perfect, stronger and faster than the last. I don't care what excuse you have, but this isn't some kids' club. Cobra Kai is serious, and you'd better act like it." Tory rolled her eyes at him. Immature idiots, that's what.

Just then, Hawk walked back into the dojo, changed into normal clothes. "Yo, Tory! What time works for you?"

"Uh, I've got today off, so around seven should be okay."

He nodded. "Seven it is. You hear that, guys? Golf N' Stuff. Don't be late, and if you think you can get away with bailing, think again." He looked back at Tory. "Need a ride?"

Tory shrugged. "Sure." She let him hoist her up, and they walked to the door together.

"Later, Cobras!" Tory called, looking over her shoulder. "You don't show, you'll pay!"

She waited as Hawk unlocked the car before sliding into the passenger seat. The latter noticed that something seemed off with her since yesterday. She seemed distracted even during class, staring off into space whenever Sensei Kreese was talking. Her voice lacked that usual conviction and he often caught her sighing sadly to herself when she thought no one was looking; it worried him. He knew Tory had a lot going on, and he wanted to help her if only she'd talk to him. What was a friend who didn't stand by you when things got tough?

"Hey, Tory- "the chime of her phone pairing with the car's Bluetooth cut him off. She didn't even look towards him, just blasted _IDGAF_ by Dua Lipa at full volume. She quietly hummed along with the song, and Hawk noticed a few tears roll down her cheeks. He turned down the volume. This had to stop.

"Tory! Look at me." Her head snapped sideways, and she fixed him with an expectant look. 

"You turned down my music. This had better be worth it," she grumbled.

"What's going on with you? You've been... acting a little weird lately. Like, you seem different." 

She shrugged. "Figures. That's what happens when you give yourself a haircut. I don't have the cash to burn at fancy salons like LaRusso."

Hawk chuckled under his breath. "No, I didn't mean your hair. Your hair looks fine- I hadn't even noticed the change, to be honest. I was talking about you, like, your behaviour. Is everything okay?"

"Yes. It's all good. Now change the topic." She went back to reading something on her phone.

"No," Hawk said, stopping the car at the side of a road.

"What?" She asked, looking up at him. 

"I'm not changing the topic. You're my friend, and I want to know if something's wrong. You can trust me, you know. I can help with whatever it is. Sure, I'm no Miguel, but-"

"Stop."

_You say you're sorry, but it's too late now,_

_So save it, get gone, shut up,_

"Stop what?"

"Don't talk to me about Miguel," she said, her voice dropping to a bare, hollow tone. 

"Why?" Hawk was surprised at this. Even when he was in the hospital, even when he was in a _coma,_ she would never stop talking about him. "Did something happen with him?"

"I said, _don't talk about him."_

"Tell me what happened. I know Miguel; I can probably help."

"He came by to see me at work. He wanted to apologise." She said, sullenly.

"So? What's wrong with that? Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" Sometimes, Tory was just too hard to understand. "Miguel wants another chance with you; why is that such a crime?"

Tory laughed mirthlessly. "You just don't get it, do you? You boys think that 'getting a girl', as you call it, is some sick game or hobby of yours. You guys don't understand emotions, or personal space, or anything, do you? All you think about is, ' _Oh, that chick is hot, I have to have her.'_ Have her? Girls aren't fucking objects, Hawk!

"We're people, and the keyword to starting a healthy relationship is _consent._ Ever heard of the word? What was that you said, you're planning on having a 'full rotation by midterm'? 'Why limit yourself to one chick?' Maybe that's what prompted Miguel to do what he did. All of you are the same. Shameless bastards!" 

Hawk let out a low whistle at her outburst. He could see where the frustration was coming from, and while he would have normally been offended by what she said, he decided that it could wait. "Alright," he said. "Let it all out."

"I wanted to go visit Miguel, but there was nothing I could do to make him feel better. My stupid words of encouragement would be useless to him. But when I finally went to see him, I heard him get mad at Sensei– I mean, Lawrence, and I lost my nerve. He saw me anyway, and the first thing he asked me was why I hurt LaRusso. A few weeks after that, I saw him at the sushi restaurant, and tried apologising for running away like that. He called me crazy. And now, he turns up at the roller rink begging for a do-over. It's not like I don't _want to_ forgive him, just that I can't. 

"It's not easy, putting myself out there again and again. Every time, I have no idea what to expect. I–I end up thinking of him all the damn time, but I can't stop the thought of whether or not he actually liked me, or..."

"Or was just dating you as a distraction after his breakup with Sam?" Hawk finished. Tory nodded.

"You know, what if I forgive him, and there comes a situation where he has to choose between me and Sam? What if he chooses Sam, when I need him? Sam doesn't need him; she doesn't need anyone. She has Mommy and Daddy to cry to. Well, too bad that everyone isn't raking in the cash. Miguel was like, my pillar of strength. He was there for me whenever I needed him, and then one day, bam, the pillar just knocked over and I had to recentre my life around the remaining pillars I had. Now, he's asking for a place back in my life, which is like, wanting to reconstruct that fallen pillar."

Tory paused to check if Hawk was listening, or had zoned out. He was sitting bolt upright, eyes wide open and alert.

"So, reconstructing a pillar takes a lot of time, effort, labour, expense and everything else. Honestly, I don't know if I want to give it everything I've got to do it over, when I don't know how stable it'll be. What if it falls over again? What if Miguel leaves me for Sam, betrays me again? I– can't handle any more excitement in my life, I've got more than enough."

It was then, that she broke down completely. Sobbing into her duffel bag, Hawk watched silently as her eyeliner mixed with the tears and ran down her face in black veins.

"Is it wrong that I'm scared of trusting people?" She cried, and Hawk's heart went out to her. He leaned over and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, Tory, it's okay. You're going through a lot, and you're handling it extremely well. It's hard to trust people, I know. Believe me, I've been there. And it's okay to let out your feelings." He said, watching her mean girl veneer just drop, allowing the troubled, scared teenage girl to come through. She held on to him like a lifeline as she tearfully recalled every memory with Miguel.

"Listen, I know Miguel. He does like you, a lot. I'll talk to him, ask him what this is really about, okay? In return, I need you to tell me when something's wrong. Talk to me if you ever need something. I've got you. There, you better now?"

Tory slowly pulled away from him. "Yeah, thank you so much. I guess I reached my bursting point, so you had to face the heat. Sorry about that," She said, shooting him a sheepish grin before drying her tears.

"That's no problem. It's like I always say, Cobra Kai for life."

"What the hell happened to my face?" She groaned, checking her reflection in her phone. "I look like a bloody ghost! Shit, you cry for a few minutes and throw a good thirty minutes' worth of hard work down the drain!"

Hawk laughed as he revved up the engine again. "So, what do you say, we grab a couple of cheeseburgers and shakes before Golf N' Stuff? You know, get our energy up?"

Tory undid her hair before smoothing it out and tying it back into a messy ponytail. "Hell yeah, let's give them a night they'll never forget!"

"Aye aye, captain!" Hawk smiled contently as he looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

_Now that's the Tory I know._


	14. Mistakes

_**2014** _

"Hey, you killed it!" Jamie pulled her in for a hug as she smiled widely. Tory spotted a brown _Clementine_ paper bag in the girl's hands. 

"I did... what, exactly? Wait, you bought dessert? Why? And why did you push me into the coat rack? Do you even know how much you embarrassed me? What were you thinking–" Jamie put a finger to her lips, gesturing for her to be quiet as she grabbed her hand and led her out of the mall. Tory stared at the flurry of people and the buzz of chatter that went around as she and Jamie wove their way through the crowd.

A giant Christmas tree in the square caught her attention, at least twenty feet tall, with brightly coloured ornaments and fairy lights wrapped around its massive frame. December had just started, but the celebrations were already underway. Tory stopped in her tracks, staring at the heap of perfectly wrapped gifts under the tree with wide eyes. "Whoa, would you look at that? I wish I could have one of those."

Jamie followed the younger girl's gaze and shook her head, scoffing lightly. Tory was still a kid, no doubt. She was yet to get used to having all the niceties dangling right above her reach and never being able to get them. She looked at the bag in her hands and then back at Tory, and smiled. She had been tagging along with Jamie for the last six months or so, and no time spent with her was ever dull. She pulled her to the pavement just in time, as a car sped by. But Tory was too lost in her Christmas fantasies to even notice.

"Okay, I'm just going to have to say it," Jamie said, taking a deep breath. Tory canted her head at her, confusion was written all over her face.

"Say what?"

"Look, you're just thirteen and you've barely even seen what I've seen. It's rough out there, and if you think you've struggled, well, you don't know the half of it, T. You're so lucky that Maria's your mom, she tries to give you the best even with what little she has. I'd kill to have a mother like that." Jamie cleared her throat. Her mother was a sensitive topic in her family; her dad and sisters never mentioned her after she left. It was just too painful and they'd rather leave it a memory. Jamie felt sick to the stomach as she recalled the sickening sight in front of her when she walked into her parents' room six years ago.

It was bad enough to walk in on your parents doing the dirty, but to walk in your mom and some stranger? Jamie had screamed in shock, causing the couple to become aware of the girl's presence. Till date, she struggled to get the last conversation with her mother out of her head.

"Jamie? Jamie, are you alright?" Tory snapped her fingers in front of Jamie's face, who seemed to have zoned out. She went paler than she usually was, and her hands were shaking as one hand rose to her cheek. Her eyes had a distant, scared look about them, while she whispered something so softly that Tory couldn't comprehend.  
"Jamie!" She tries again, and the girl snapped back to the present.

"What happened?"

"What was that all about, Jamie?" Tory asked, concerned. The older girl shook her head. She collapsed onto a bench and just sat still.

"Jamie, are you okay? You can talk to me." Tory took her hand and locked her fingers with Jamie's, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm here for you." 

* * *

_"That's all you are, Jamie. An interfering little prick, you hear me? God, I'm actually glad you found me out; I can finally get out of this_ _shithole_ _and stop pretending," Mrs Johnson had snapped as she packed her bags to leave. Jamie, ten years old at the time, stood there, stupefied. Her mother had made no attempt to apologise to her father, or justify her actions. The woman didn't even deny her goddamn actions!_

_"Mom?" Jamie said, her face white as a sheet, and her knees knocking. She loved her mother so much, and had looked up to her for as long as she could remember. Now, here was the same woman, who seemed to have finally revealed her true colours._

_"What? What do you want?"_

_"Mom... why don't you just... try to make amends with Daddy? You made a mistake and he's paying the price for it. Why are you leaving us? Don't you love me, or Lola, or even Emma? She's just two years old, you can't leave her like this!" She cried, tears of anger and betrayal streaming down her pale face. Her younger sisters of five and two had no idea what was going on, and as the oldest, Jamie took it upon herself to make sure they never felt her absence._

_"Amends... with that deadbeat? Are you crazy? This is what I want, this is what I've wanted for so long!" Kayla Johnson said, haphazardly shoving the last of her clothes into the large suitcase. "Gordon has money, he owns his own bloody business unlike your father, who could barely give me what I wanted for eleven whole years! And it was just a one night stand in college, I was never even in love with the guy. And I can't put up with it for any longer. The only reason I agreed to marry him was that..." Her voice trailed off and she developed a sudden interest in fixing her hair._

_"What was the reason? Tell me! I deserve to know, I'm your oldest kid!" Jamie shouted, her brazen persona coming through as always. Kayla contemplated telling her for a few minutes before finally relenting._

_"I got pregnant. It was my best friend's birthday, and she threw a huge party. It was there that I met Chris, with his black hair and those dark eyes. Damn, we just had a few drinks together, and the next thing I know, we're at the door of his apartment. Ah, I'll never forget that night." Kayla smiled wistfully, but looked at her daughter and remembered the rest of the story. "A few weeks later, I got really sick. Chris and I were dating at the time, and when we found out that we were going to be parents, he proposed and I felt obligated to say yes."_

_She breathed deeply. "But it was a mistake. It was all a mistake. I never should have agreed to have the baby, but he wanted it so bad, begging me not to take the abortion with those almond eyes. I never should have fallen into that trap, or I– we wouldn't be in this mess. Chris and I could have gone our separate ways, I could have made something decent of my life than being stuck at the bottom of the society with my useless husband."_

_"Hey, don't talk about Daddy like that!" Jamie said, the truth beginning to dawn on her. "Mom, why are you doing this? Why do you want to leave your kids?" She wailed, her short hair falling over her shoulders, while her uncut bangs were drenched at the tips from the tears._

_She was going to wake up any minute now, her mother would slowly shake her awake and kiss her on the nose as she did every day. She would make her way into the living room only to have her sisters pounce on her, screaming, "_ _Gooooood_ _morning,_ _Jamieeeee_ _!" She knew it. It was all just a bad dream. A loud sound and a hot, tingling pain on her cheek was enough to remind her that she was never going to wake up from this nightmare. She was never going to outlive this day._

_"Don't you get it? You were a mistake! I never wanted to be a mother that early, I was just twenty-one! You're a mistake, Jamie! Born purely by accident. If it weren't for your sentimental moron father, you probably wouldn't have been here today. The way you talk about him, I just don't get what you see in him! He's just a pathetic, poor man who can't even fulfil his wife's wishes!" She spat._

_Jamie shrunk back, her lips quivering in disbelief. Never had her loving mother spoken to her like this. Never had she spoken about her father like this. For once, the girl had no retort to counter her mother. For once, she was silenced. Dumbfounded. She was a mistake. Her mother didn't want her, from the start. She wasn't supposed to have been born at all._

_She wasn't the first child her parents excitedly waited for, debated on names for, didn't want to welcome her into the world as their very own. At least, her mother didn't._ _She couldn't believe what she was hearing._

_"Mom–" her voice caught in the middle as she cried in huge, blubbering sobs. She put her arms out, out of habit, longing for her mother to pull her close and stroke her head, whisper sweet things to her and tell her she loved her. But she was roughly pushed away instead._

_"Go cry to your father. You love him so much, don't you?"_

* * *

"Oh my god, Jamie, I had no idea! I'm so sorry!" Tory wrapped her arms around a sobbing Jamie, and for once, the girl didn't push them away. Jamie was never one for big shows of affection, but this time, she offered no resistance.

"Tory, what mother would say that to her ten year old? What mother would leave behind three children for some guy who has money?" Jamie said, her present state a mere shadow of the charismatic and cocky young woman she usually was.

"Hey, you've got way better people looking out for you. You've got your dad, you've got Kevin, you've got your sisters, and you've always got me." Tory said, looking at her distraught grey eyes, racked with pain.

"You don't understand, Tory, I'm a mistake! My mother didn't want me, I'm a fucking mistake!" Jamie yelled, burying her face into her palms yet again.

"Jamie, you're the most beautiful person I know. I don't know where you get your overflowing confidence from, or your steady wit, but I've always looked up to you. If you lined up all the rich girls in the world against a wall, I'd pick you even with my eyes closed. You're everything anyone could ever want, Jamie. If your mother couldn't see that, she's a real bitch. You're one in a million, Jamie, you need to know that. Gosh, have I ever told you how much I like you?"

Jamie looked at her, lips slowly stretching into a smile. Her face edged closer and closer, and Tory felt the soft touch if Jamie's lips on hers, the sour taste of her citrus lip gloss came through as she closed her eyes. Jamie tugged at her hair, pulling her closer. As they slowly pulled away, both in surprise, eyes shining. Tory giggled. This was a dream come true. Jamie Johnson was a hundred leagues above her, yet here they were.

"You know, some mistakes are worth making, Jamie."


	15. You're The One

_**2014** _

Tory sat cross-legged on her bed, repeatedly touching her lips. She couldn't believe it; she just had her first kiss! At thirteen! Her eyes fluttered shut, her heart squealing as she recalled Jamie's gentle touch, pulling her closer and closer. Those half-closed eyes with her long eyelashes brushing her cheek lightly. It had all really happened, just a few hours ago.

Her talkative, headstrong personality caught Tory off guard every time. Never letting her finish a sentence, never telling her what they were up to; it was infuriating sometimes, but that's what made Jamie so... well, Jamie. She was so deep down in her love-struck well that she was deaf to her mother calling her from the other room. 

She ultimately opened the door and let herself in. "Tory, honey, I've been calling you for so long!" She said, mildly annoyed. 

"What? Sorry, I was... thinking about something. Do you need help with something?" Tory swung her legs off the bed and lightly tapped her head a few times, willing herself out of her rose-tinted world where nothing existed but Jamie. 

"Yes, I need you in the living room for a minute," Maria Nichols led her out of her room. The living room was pitch dark, and Tory yelped as she stubbed her toe on one of the table's edges. 

"You-" Tory lunged out blindly in what she thought was the direction of the table, but two hands firmly pulled her back. 

"No. No hitting the table. We can't afford the repairs." Tory sighed at her mother's blunt reasoning. It had come to her instinctively from childhood - to hit back at whatever caused her pain, regardless of how trivial it was. "You'll get into trouble with this habit of yours someday," Maria remarked, her voice ringing out louder in the black silence of the room. "This isn't right, lashing out at whatever hurts you. Just forget it and move on."

Tory couldn't believe her ears. This was the woman who lost her job and was accused of stealing, though she never did anything wrong. This was a woman who had lost her husband after a mere eight months of marriage. This was the woman who was single-handedly raising two children and trying to provide for them by working multiple jobs. Life had been cruel and ruthless to her, and yet she still gave anyone and anything the benefit of the doubt.

"But, Mom, we have to fight for what we know we deserve!" Tory argued, momentarily ignoring the fact that they were still in the dark. "We can't keep being taken advantage of, we can't let people think we won't fight back! You should know that better than anyone."

Maria laughed quietly to herself, amused but perturbed by her daughter's extreme mindset. "Look, sweetie, some things aren't in our control. Maybe things take a turn for the worse, maybe they don't, and you can either waste your time and effort into fighting it and getting revenge and everything or, you can be sensible, focus on moving forward and getting things done right. It's crossroads like these that determine what kind of person you are, for better or worse."

Tory nodded. That _did_ make sense to some extent, but she could still find fault in her mother's thought process if she wanted. _Eh, maybe for another day, I suppose._

"So, mom, what did you need my help with?" She asked, straining to make out Maria's face in the darkness.

"It looks like the light bulb's circuit tripped or something, so I need you to stand here and when I give you the signal, try switching it on again. I'm going to go out back and try tweaking the MCB a bit." Maria started to walk off to the back of the house, her footsteps slowly fading. Tory ran her fingers along the wall in search of the bulb, wondering why her mother needed her help for something so silly. She didn't question it, though. She could hear her mom shuffling about with the MCB as she waited with a finger on the switch.

"Mom, you done?" She called, and got her green flag almost instantaneously.

"Yes, go for it. I have a good feeling that I fixed it!"

Tory scoffed. Her mother was no electrician, they all knew that. If she said she fixed it, she must've fried the entire connection. Any minute now, it was going to blow up, for sure.

"Oh, well, here goes nothing," she muttered as she flicked the switch on. She blinked rapidly as bright light made its way into her eyes, that had become accustomed to the dark in the past few minutes. Suddenly, people emerged from behind the couch and yelled, "SURPRISE!"

Tory jumped out of her skin, the chorus of voices startling her. "Happy Birthday, Tory!" Will said, handing her a paper bag. She tore it open to find a beautiful canvas sketch of a girl amid a boxing fight. The opponent wasn't drawn, but it was clear from the picture that the girl was winning. "That's you," Will pointed out as her grandparents came out to hug her. "My friend Max lent me the canvas in return for doing his homework for a week."

"Aw, thank you, Willy! It's beautiful!" Tory gazed at the canvas fondly, marvelling at her brother's delicate strokes, the shading that brought the black and white lines to life, and the love that he put into it, which she could feel. "You're going places one day, do you know that?" She said, hugging him tightly. Will laughed and brushed off the compliment shyly.

"It's nothing," he mumbled. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you something nicer."

"What– no way! This is the best gift I've ever gotten, what even makes you think that? I don't need expensive, fancy stuff to call mine, I love this. You worked so hard at it, you made it yourself; and that's so much more than any store-bought junk. Come here, I love you." Tory bubbled over with joy at the little surprise party her family had planned. It wasn't much, but it was full of love and positivity. Her mother got her an adorable charm bracelet that had the letter T hanging from it.

Her grandma gave her a hand-knitted sling bag, made with vibrant blues and purples, just the way she liked it. Grandpa gave her a pair of boxing hand wraps; they weren't new, but they were his that he had safely kept for years. Tory accepted the gifts happily as they all gorged on the enormous feast her mother and grandmother had whipped up. They were poor, but food was never a problem at grandma's.

"So, what do you say to some dancing?" Maria asked after the meal, waving a CD of Tory's favourite album, _Up All Nigh_ t by One Direction. After an hour of dancing, they decided to call it a night. Technically, Tory's birthday wasn't until the next day, but Will was too impatient for her to see his drawing that he insisted they do it the previous night.

In the middle of the night, Tory awoke to her phone vibrating. It was from Jamie.

**_Jamie:_ **   
**_Hey, birthday girl! Meet me at our usual spot in 20 minutes. I have something to show you._ **

Soon enough, she was huddled under the orange tree in the park. A soft whistling sound was enough to let her know that Jamie had arrived. She came bearing the same _Clementine_ bag from earlier, and another lumpy package that Tory couldn't make out.

"Oh good, you're here," Jamie said, setting down her luggage before sitting and leaning in for a quick kiss. Tory was taken aback at first, for she wasn't used to this. She eased into it quite soon, nevertheless.

"Jamie, it's 2 am, why are we here at this time?"

She smiled. "I'm glad you asked." She pulled out a box from the bag and opened it, revealing a small chocolate cake with milk chocolate frosting. Using the plastic knife, she cut it into eight parts and split them into halves, laying them out on either side of the box. "You don't touch my half, and I don't touch yours. Deal?"

Tory just stared at the girl, at a loss for words. "Jamie, what is all this?"

"Thought we'd have a little party of our own," she said, pulling out an eight-pack of _Coors Light._ She popped two can't and handed one to Tory. "Cheers to my adorable girlfriend!" Jamie grinned and sipped at her beer.

"Beer? But I'm just thirteen! Well, fourteen now. And you're underage, too!" Tory protested, the second half of Jamie's statement hadn't sunk in yet.

"Underage? Who even cares about that? Just close your eyes and feel it. It's the best feeling ever, trust me."

Tory looked at her doubtfully. "Are you sure?" She didn't like what she was stepping into. Everything around screamed red flags to her, every warning of her mother's came to mind. But Jamie merely nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

"Okay then," Tory took a swig of the alien liquid and gagged. "It's so bitter!"

Jamie laughed. "You'll get used to it. That's how it tastes for the first time."

Between slices of cake and shrieks of laughter, Tory had downed three cans herself.

"Wait," she said, the words hitting her like a truck. "Jamie, did you just call me your girlfriend?" Her vision was blurry and her speech slurred but it was nothing for the warmth that ran through her veins. Her head felt light and giddy, while nearly everything that Jamie said made her laugh, for some reason.

The older girl nodded. "You are, aren't you?"

"I guess I am."

Tory giggled again, for what would have been the fiftieth time that night, and crawled over to wrap herself in Jamie's arms. Jamie stroked her head as she kissed Tory's forehead before reaching for the second bag she brought with her.

"I haven't given you your gift yet," she said, handing Tory the bag. The girl opened it and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw what it was. It was the same pink dress that she had seen at the mall all those months ago. The one that caused all the embarrassment.

"Jamie... how?" She whispered, running her fingers along the fabric and feeling like she was scared it would vanish any moment.

"Do you remember when I pushed you into the coat rack? That's when I took this. You cause a good distraction, you know." Jamie nonchalantly pushed her hair behind her shoulders, like she stole clothes from the mall everyday.

"You– you stole this? Isn't that... wrong? What if they find us out? What if you get arrested, and our parents get to know? Jamie, what were you thinking?"

A shiver ran down Tory's spine as she envisioned all the things that could go wrong. She carefully laid the dress out over the packaging, so as not to ruin it. Jamie just cackled loudly before firmly pressing it back in her hands.

"It's yours, Tory. Look, stealing is wrong if you take something you know you can have by paying for it. That's what the rich brats do. But you and me? We don't have that privilege, we have to get what we want ourselves. We don't have Mommy and Daddy's money to burn. We've had it bad, and that's why we fight for every inch of what's ours. Life's been unfair to us, so we return the favour. Someone wrongs you, never forget it. Never let it go, wait for the right moment to strike back. You're strong, but this will make you stronger."

Tory nodded. Despite everything her mom said, Jamie's logic was perfectly accurate, and she couldn't agree with her more.

"Thanks a lot, Jamie. I never thought I'd have this."

"Hey, anything for you."

After a while, Tory stood up to leave, but had to grab the tree's trunk to keep from falling. Every step she took was wobbly and uncertain. Jamie rushed to her, looping an arm around her waist, steadying her as she walked Tory home.

"What a lightweight," she muttered, chuckling under her breath. 

* * *

_**Present Day** _

"Hello? Am I speaking to Tory?" The gruff male voice asked. He had been trying to call her several times over the past few hours, and she had ignored all of them. Finally, she decided to answer the call and see what he wanted. They hadn't spoken to each in months, after all.

"Yes, it's me. What do you want?" She snapped, not bothering to be nice to her former sensei. Johnny sounded like he was in a hurry, as he rambled on and on.

"Hey, so, I was wondering if you could do me a little favour?"

"A favour? Really? After everything, you want a favour?" Tory growled. "You let us down when we needed you, you went soft and Miguel paid the price, we haven't even spoken in months and now you want me to do you a favour? Well, do _me_ a favour, and fuck off."

"Wait, listen, I'm sorry. For everything that happened at the school. That's on me, I won't be able to stop feeling guilty about it. But that's not what this is about." Johnny sounded sincere, won't desperate, and while Tory was in no mood to humour him, she wanted to know what was up.

"Yeah, that's your fault. Now, what do you want?"

On the other end, Johnny took a deep breath. "Do you remember the time you told me about your friend who works at the Ford as a sound technician?"

"Well, yeah. What about it?"

"Do you think you can get me tickets for the Dee Snider gig next week?"

Tory almost laughed out loud at his childish request. This was incredulous! He was no longer her sensei, and she was no longer his student. And that was the only way they knew each other. After he betrayed them, what made him think he would help her?

"Oh wow, you don't realise that we're no longer on the same side, do you? Fuck. Off." Tory was about to hang up when Johnny stopped her again. She groaned. Couldn't he take a hint? He was a freaking middle-aged man who was begging a teenager to score him concert tickets. Fantastic.

"Tory, just listen to me. It's not for me. It's for– it's for Miguel."


	16. Only Human

_**Six months ago** _

"Hit him again," Kreese said, nodding in Tory's direction. Tory glanced over at Assface, who doubled over on the mat, clutching his ribs where Tory's roundhouse had landed. 

She stared at the old man in disbelief. Her opponent was clearly already in pain, defeated on the ground. She scored the third point, so the fight was over, wasn't it? 

"I-" Tory began, but Kreese cut her off.

"Do you have a problem with that?" He asked, a sinister glint lingering in his eyes. "A fight isn't over till your enemy is finished. You show your enemy no mercy."

Tory shut her eyes and composed herself. Sensei was right, after all. Wasn't this what Jamie had told her all those years ago? Wasn't this mentality what helped her escape– no, that was a forbidden subject. Despite the knot in her stomach, she muttered a silent apology to the squirming boy on the ground, who flinched and folded into himself, pure fear in his eyes, and lunged forward to grab his head, about to knee him in the chest-

" _STOP!"_ Miguel shouted, stepping forward. "This isn't what Sensei Lawrence has been teaching us!"

Sensei Kreese arched an eyebrow as if amused with Miguel's audacity to speak out against him. _"Excuse me?"_ he asked, his voice laden with extra politeness. 

"There's no honour in being merciless," he said, his chin jutting out in defiance and broad shoulders squared as he stepped forward fearlessly. "Tory scored a point," he looked over at his girlfriend, who was still in a fighting stance. Torn between Kreese and Miguel, not understanding whom to listen to. 

What path should she take? What if she made the wrong decision and ruined her life for good? What if she ended up hurting someone she loved, like her mother or Will, or even Miguel? She could never live with herself if she did. Studying Miguel's confident posture, she wished she could be like him and just take a stand. Pick a side, and stick to it. She wished that she could have his kind heart, his forgiving nature and still have that fighter's spirit that never died down in him. She wished she could truly let her guard down with him like she had done only once before, but she was scared. What if he let her down like the others did?

"It's over." 

* * *

_**Present Day** _

_"It's not for me. It's for Miguel."_

_It's for Miguel._ Her brows furrowed into a frown at the mention of his name. She didn't deny that he hadn't been grievously injured, but he had become everyone's poster child, while she was the crazy villain of the entire story.

How was that even fair, when it all started because Sam LaRusso kissed him? What was she supposed to do, stand back and silently endure her heartbreak while Princess continued to make merry with her boyfriend? And now Johnny was playing Dad and taking Miguel for a rock concert while she worked herself raw at the roller rink, watching happy high schoolers on dates. She barely even had a dad, let alone get to know him. 

She ignored the jealousy that slowly gnawed at her from inside and focused on the problem at hand. Yes, Johnny Lawrence was a problem. Major.

"Buy your own tickets, Johnny. I have better things to do," she said shortly.

"No, please, I need your help. You and I both know that I can't afford even one ticket, so forget about two. I..." His voice trailed off, like he was uncertain of what to say next.

"I know that things aren't the best between you and Miguel at the moment, but he's had a rough time, these past few months. First, he was in a coma, then he was told that he'd never walk again, and now, the poor kid's stuck in a wheelchair doing physiotherapy while other kids his age are just living their lives. I know that you haven't had a party of it, either, so I figured you'd understand."

Tory just sat there, speechless. Did Johnny really just say that? For once, she didn't have something cutting to snap back at him. She didn't have her regular sarcasm dripping off her voice. She couldn't bring herself to make a sound out of her throat because the only thing she could think of was her screaming Miguel's name as he fell to what they all thought was his apparent death. It had been four months, was it wrong that she still blamed herself?

It was, wasn't it? Everyone was moving on with their lives, Kreese was training them for a freaking war, and here she was, stuck in the past. It wasn't fair. She should know that by now, surely. But then why was she still wallowing in useless self-pity? What use was it? She sighed and held the phone back to her ear.

"You figured I'd understand. Really? What makes you say so? I've never had my back broken, I've never had to relearn to walk. Our lives are miles apart, so don't compare me with Miguel." Tory couldn't help but take a dig at him; after all, she didn't want his pity. She wanted nothing more from him.

Johnny sighed. "I didn't mean it that way. Look, kid, I know that you're hitting a rough patch and things seem completely out of your control, but you're not one of them who just backs out. You have every right to hold the school fight against me, but don't punish Diaz for it. He knows he made a mistake, and he's trying to make it right. He shouldn't have kissed LaRusso's daughter, I'll give you that, but he's been through so much after that. He's already done double time for his crime, but nothing he does is good enough for you. Why?"

This wasn't going as she expected. They had completely drifted off-topic and Johnny had now transitioned into being the expert relationship counsellor that he was, who knew how. Maybe because he was a part of lots of drama in his youth? Yes, that must be it.

She didn't trust herself enough to answer his question, so how could she trust someone else so much to just give him an express pass back into her life? Maybe they didn't see it, but she did. Forgiving was never easy, not when it's the person you cared about the most. And forgetting? That was a whole therapy session.

"He let me down. He let me down when I needed him, and suppose I do forgive him and we get back together, how do I know that he isn't seeing LaRusso behind my back? Don't look for reasons to defend your precious golden boy just because you have to. Try looking for both sides of the fucking story, once in a while."

Johnny noted her slightly hoarse voice that wavered every time she finished a sentence. Yep, she was definitely crying. He had had more than his fair share of teenage drama back in the day, but now his beef with LaRusso was child's play compared to what it had unfolded into. He could have done so much, and yet it would all be worth nothing, judging by the mess he made with _Danielle_ LaRusso. His kid was in juvie, what could get worse than that?

He recalled his conversation with Carmen, her anguished tears of a worried single mother, pained by her son's condition and taking it upon herself because she couldn't help in any way. How many beers had he downed in those weeks that Miguel was in a coma? How many sleepless nights had he spent, cursing himself for what he got his star student into– no, he was more than that.

Miguel was practically a son to Johnny; the son that he never had in Robby, and wished every moment that he hadn't shied away from the responsibility of parenting all those years ago. He was going to make the kid happy, even if it was the last thing he did. Tory was being unreasonable, but she was only a teenaged girl who just had her heart broken. Then again, she was single-handedly running her house, paying bills and nursing her terminally ill mother. He could see where she was coming from.

He said a silent prayer that he had heard Bobby say at some point, and hoped that this next part wouldn't blow up in his face. He didn't want to use his trump card, but after all, he had a shitty hand dealt to him. Who would have thought that the guy who was three-time All Valley champion, most desirable kid in college, the party animal throughout his twenties and most of his thirties would end up begging a girl for concert tickets to bring a smile to a student's face?

"Tory," he began, keeping his tone calm and reasonable, open for a discussion but not about to start an argument. He cracked his knuckles nervously, wondering if he should say what he was about to.

"I'm truly sorry for all the shit that's going on in your life, and yes, I'll tell you again; it wasn't pretty what Miguel did at that party, and it wasn't fair to you either. But he's tried apologising so many times and you're just winding him around and around like it's some sort of a sick game. He needs a definite answer, either a yes or a no. He needs fucking closure, because god knows he won't wait around for your forgiveness forever."

She bit her lip, hating that every word of what Johnny was saying was true. She wanted to forgive him and for things to go back to his they were, but everyone in the Valley knew that things were never going to be the same again. She avoided Miguel because it was an easy thing to do. She wasn't a good talker, wasn't good at reasoning things so that the other party would see what she saw.

All her life, she had been fighting, and then running away. Fighting, then running. How long could she go on like this? She needed closure too, she needed the love and comfort that she had been deprived of since the night of that damned party. If only she could do it all over again. But she wasn't running this time. It would be do or die, yes or no. Whatever decision she made, it would be the final chapter in her and Miguel's relationship.

"Okay, I hate to say it, but you're right. Sort of. I've been procrastinating because it felt right at that moment. Not that it's any of your business, anyway, and I'd actually give this whole thing more thought if Miguel didn't rely on you to fight his battles for him." The wrong tone, again. She never could control her temper once it was on the rise. Her mouth got away from her, saying things she never meant in a million years, but she held it together as much as possible this time. _For Miguel,_ she told herself.

"Okay, I didn't want to say this, but here it goes anyway." Johnny's exasperated voice said, from the other side. "Wouldn't you want your mother to have the best time of her life, while she can? It hurts to see her cooped up indoors all the time, watching as the world goes on, doesn't it? I've met her, and she's a lovely woman who doesn't deserve any of what she's going through. I feel the same for Diaz, and I'm simply asking for your help.

"This is not me speaking as your Sensei, or as a man trying to assert his dominance over you, or to take advantage of you. This is just a guy trying his best to do something nice for someone he really cares about. Will you help me?" Tory heard the plea in Johnny's voice, and she knew just how much he loved Miguel, though he never admitted it. Johnny's statement about her mother hit home, and Maria's words about forgiveness came floating back to her.

_"You'll never be truly happy when you hold a grudge. You'll never find true love if you don't trust the one you love. You need to open up and learn to forgive, because second chances are worth so much. You want to be happy, don't you, sweetheart?"_

"You know what?" Tory said, sighing into her phone. "Meet me at the venue next Saturday. 4 pm. I'll see what I can do."


	17. I Could Try

**_Present Day_ **

She stood there, craning her neck to see if they had arrived. The Ford was one of LA's most famous concert venues, and fans would line up for the show soon, which didn't start for another four hours. Tory opened her bag to make sure she hadn't forgotten the tickets. They were there, sure enough. As she tapped her watch impatiently, she wondered why she was even here. Why was she helping two people that had betrayed her? As she glanced over to the gates, she realised that her thoughts would have to wait, for there they were.

"Hey, Tory," Miguel said, his tone casual but not overly friendly. He wore a shy smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, like the memory of their last meeting was still fresh in his mind. He was back in a wheelchair, she observed. That was absurd, but she decided not to question it. Johnny sauntered up behind him and gave her a friendly nod.

"How's it going, kid?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's fine," she said curtly, fishing for the tickets in her bag.

"So, you got the tickets?" Johnny asked, leaning in to whisper out of Miguel's hearing. She nodded, while the boy still looked around in confusion.

"Sensei, why are we here? What is this place?" He asked, squinting up at the stage while the slanted rays of the late afternoon sunlight fell on his eyes. "Is this some new therapy exercise?"

Johnny guffawed in disbelief. "Don't tell me you haven't ever been to The Ford arena, kid!" He said. "I used to come here at least once a month when I was your age," he muttered this second part under his breath, as neither of the kids knew about his upbringing, and he had no intention of changing that.

"The... Ford?" He echoed, puzzled. "Like _The_ Ford? The concert arena? Why?"

"I thought, maybe we could have some fun. You've spent long enough in that miserable room of yours!" Miguel's brown eyes widened like that of an excited puppy's, and Tory had to hide a smile when she saw it.

"You–you got us concert tickets, Sensei?" He asked, feeling the adrenaline rush inside him.

Johnny simply shook his head and looked at Tory. "No, she did."

Miguel stared at Tory for one long moment, like he didn't believe Johnny. "You really got us tickets?" He quizzed, his tone still on the defensive."

"Yeah. Why, is that so hard to believe?" Tory retorted, all her intentions of appearing friendly melting away as fast as they came.

"No... it's just that–" Miguel paused, trying to frame the right words, offending nobody. "—we're not on the best terms right now, are we?"

"No, we're not."

"Then why'd you agree?"

Tory was desperate to dodge his rapid-fire questions, but the boy was relentless. He wouldn't stop being a bee in her bonnet until the explanation he received satisfied him. She groaned, knowing that the subject was inevitable. They had to discuss it someday, but she just didn't want to bring it up. She glanced at Johnny, who was looking at her intently with his arms folded across his chest, waiting for her answer. It was distracting, and she couldn't talk to Miguel freely with her former Sensei's gaze boring into her.

"Johnny, can you please leave us alone for a minute? I need to talk to Miguel alone."

Johnny shrugged and said, "I'll be getting beer if you need me." Halfway to the drinks stand, he turned around and called, "I'm trusting you with him! Don't hurt him!"

Miguel rolled his eyes. "Oh God, Sensei! Just focus on getting beers, will you?" He turned his attention back to Tory, head canted to a side, listening intently.

"So...?" He prompted, gently urging her on with his eyes.

"I... I wanted to give us another chance," she admitted, unable to look straight at him. Her pride just wouldn't let her say the next few words. She'd choke on them, but couldn't get them to leave her mouth. Shoulders slumping, she finally gave in, as she reminded herself that this was _Miguel_ she was talking to; if anyone would forgive her, he would.

"Miguel, the school fight, it was my fault as much as it was LaRusso's. I couldn't handle seeing my rival kissing my boyfriend, and something in me snapped. I would not let her off either way, but starting a schoolwide brawl probably wasn't the best idea. And look, I'm not good with words, and I think I'd have to prepare a script a week in advance and memorize it down to the last word, if I were to offer you a half-decent apology, but you and I both knew that neither do I have the time for that, and nor do I have the patience."

She watched as a small smile crept up his face and he gave an almost imperceptible nod but said nothing.

"Miguel," she said again, "if it means anything, I'm so sorry. I truly am."

"I know you are. And that means a great deal." He spoke genuinely, but his voice was still quiet, devoid of any emotion. His gaze dropped to his feet, and he shook his head in disappointment.

"What's wrong?" Tory asked, detecting the change in his body language, wondering if it was because of something she had just said.

"Oh, nothing. I just..." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, unable to form the words. "I just don't see the point of this anymore. I thought I made an improvement with the crutches, but I fell over once and I'm suddenly back to square one. I'm stuck in the four walls of my tiny apartment while all my friends are doing cool stuff. I've practically become the city's fucking charity case! Do they have the memory of a goldfish? I'm the _same_ guy who won the All Valley, and now I'm being treated like this... like some invalid! I don't need anyone's sympathy, I don't need to hear strangers come up and say how sorry they are for what happened to me. Never do they have a word of advice, never a solution to get out of this mess I'm in, never something useful. I'm so damn tired of this; I feel like I'm trapped in my body." 

He exhaled loudly, frowning at his outburst. "Uh, forget it. You won't understand, anyway."

Tory shot him a half smirk. Something between _that sucks,_ and _I feel you._ "I do," she said, matter-of-factly. "My mom, remember?"

" _Oh._ Yeah, I get it. That must be even worse, having to see your mom go through all that." 

Tory raised her eyebrows and her lips stretched into an expression that wasn't quite a smile. It was either that or blubbering like a big baby. "It is. And it sucks even more that I can't do anything to take away her pain." 

She looked up at the bright blue sky, the sun's rays peeking from behind the massive frame of the building in front of them. She felt her eyes fill up with the tears she was all too familiar with when it came to the subject of her mother. How many nights had she spent in the living room at three in the morning, crying her eyes out after her mother's blood pressure had dropped, or increased, or just because she felt helpless. She wasn't curing her in any way, merely helping her sustain her present condition, which was no treat. 

"Tory. Are you even listening?"

Miguel's voice snapped her back to the present. He looked like he was longing to say something but couldn't bring himself to. Not dissimilar to her a few minutes ago.

"Huh?" She asked, intelligently. Miguel chuckled lightly, his tousled dark hair falling over his eye. 

"I said, I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have kissed Sam. She came over to where I was standing to thank me for returning the Medal of Honour, and she was really drunk, and she stumbled. So I caught her, and the rest is just...history. It all happened so fast, and I regretted it the moment I realised what was going on. I get how much it would've hurt you, and I'm sorry."

She nodded. "So we both messed up equally, huh?" 

Miguel laughed and held out his hand. "Do you think we messed up enough to start over?"

She reluctantly took it, allowing a smile. "I suppose. But you do know how awkward this will be, don't you?" 

"I don't care, I'll work my way into your good books." Miguel completed his statement with a dramatic affair of trying to blow his hair out of his face, failing miserably.

"Looks like you've got a lot of work to do."

* * *

Tory sat up, bleary eyed at a quarter to midnight, working on an essay that was already overdue. She wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, and studying for her GED was really taking it out of her, but she reminded herself firmly that it was necessary. She yawned as she stretched in bed, resisting the urge to slump into the pillows propped up against her back. She desperately needed a break from the wretched essay she had been working on for two hours, but the word limit was still light years away. 

"Damn, how long is a five thousand word essay supposed to take?" She groaned, lightly massaging her eyes with her fingers in an attempt to stay awake, staring at the bright screen on old piece of junk that she called a laptop. The cursor blinked in an intimidating manner, as if taunting her for only managing one thousand five hundred words. She sighed and opened her mail, wondering if there were any emails that she could momentarily entertain herself with. Nothing at all, unless you count spam from advertisers. Tory needed someone to talk to, another human who could pull her out of her poorly worded misery. She ran through the list of eligible options in her head. Aisha and her hadn't spoken since the school fight; Hawk would probably be asleep; Miguel- no, it was probably too soon. 

Eventually crossing out every name on her list, she was left with one potential option to consider: Robby. They had exchanged email addresses at the park, because Robby couldn't use his phone in juvie. She wondered if it was a good idea to reach out to him especially after they almost kissed... Wouldn't it be absurd, and what if Robby got the wrong idea and thought she was being suggestive? 

_God, Tory, way to overthink! Didn't you two sort it out that day itself?_ Her internal voice of reason intervened before she could lose her mind, thankfully. _We agreed that it never happened, so there's no reason to be uncomfortable. Right?_

Before she could jump to further conclusions, she found herself typing away furiously. In a few minutes' time, she had a long, chatty message sitting in front of her, waiting to be sent. She scoffed, wishing that she could display the same literary prowess with her essay.

_To: robertswayze.keene02_

_Subject: hi.....?_

_Dear Robby,_

_How are things? I know I sound really stupid asking you this, but I need some indication that you're still alive in juvie. Besides, I can't exactly think of anyone else who'd be awake at this time who I'm still on talking terms with. I'm desperate for some kind of distraction because I'm stuck writing a 5000 word essay about the importance of non conventional energy resources, and I'm not even sure I know enough to fill up that many words. Actually, who am I kidding? You're probably asleep as well._

_You know, as soon as you get out of juvie, we should totally hang out because you seem to be the only person besides Cobra Kai who doesn't seem to think I'm some mental patient. Besides, you're not too bad on your own, either. I know juvie probably sucks, but I'm hoping you're really kicking everyone's ass there instead of the other way round, though I don't really approve of the pussy karate you learnt from LaRusso. Okay, I should probably get back to my essay because it was actually due yesterday, so I'm already pretty screwed. Hopefully you don't think this is creepy of me, and/or get the wrong idea after what (almost) happened (or did it?) at the park that day._

_Cheers,_

_Tory._

She hunched over, squinting into the screen with her chin rested on her knuckles. Cheers? Who the hell writes 'Cheers'? It's so...fake optimistic? Why would he have _any_ reason to be optimistic? He was in prison, not summer camp! She propped her elbow against the keyboard, thinking of plausible replacements for 'Cheers'. _With love?_ No, of course not. That would basically imply that she was flirting with him, and she was NOT. _Yours truly?_ Ugh, no way. This wasn't an official email or anything. In the end, she decided to remove the 'Cheers' altogether. Yeah, this looked okay. Casual, but not affectionate or unusually emotional. Content, she hit _Send._

As she went back to working on her essay, she kept checking for a response from Robby, her heartbeat spiking every time her eyes scanned the screen expectantly. _Why am I so nervous? This is nothing. Robby and I are cordial, so I reached out to him. Big deal, right?_

An hour later, she let out a relieved sigh, finally handing in her essay. As her eyelids drooped, she mustered up the energy to check the mail tab one last time, though she doubted there'd be anything new to see. She was right, and was about to close the window with a disappointed huff when a new message appeared at the top of the screen.


	18. Cheers

**_Present Day_ **

The following morning, Tory woke up to the deafening noise of her alarm. She sat up, only to find her laptop lying open a few feet away from her. She turned it on, immediately redirected to the email window. Up until then, she was sure that she dreamt about Robby's reply, but the unread message at the top of the screen confirmed that she hadn't just been seeing things last night because she was exhausted.

_To: torynichols_404_

_Hey Tory,_  
_Of course I don't think you're a creep for writing to me. Honestly, I could use some contact with the outside world, because everyone who was writing to me stopped eventually. Everyone except my mom, but again, she's not my age. And I have NO idea what you're talking about anyway, because nothing happened at the park; we just did some casual talking, and that's it. I mean, some good probably did come out of it because a couple of months ago, we'd gladly slit each other's throats, with no regrets._ _And_ _juvie_ _absolutely sucks. It's the worst. Ppl have no sense of personal space whatsoever and it smells in here and the food is gross._

_Also, I hate to disappoint but I've been the one getting my ass kicked in here. Turns out, 'defence only' won't quite cut it in here with 6-7 foot giants waiting for me at every corner. Speaking of which, did you know that your sensei came by to visit me a few days ago?? I have no idea what he wanted but it seems like he wants to recruit me for Cobra Kai. Idk how to feel about that but at least he visited unlike, my "amazing" dad. I probably sound very cheerful but I'm not, trust me. I'm the most pissed dude you'll find around here._

_Anyways why do you want to wait till I get out????? You can visit me here whenever you have the time and honestly I could use the company. Let me know if you'll come, unless you're creeped out at the idea of visiting an ex-enemy-who's-not-quite-a-friend-but-you-almost-didn't-kiss-him, in_ _juvie_ _. Consider it, pls. I don't want to die alone. Thanks for writing._

_Cheers,_  
_Robby._

Tory smiled widely as she reread the mail over and over. His witty and casual tone amused her at how effortlessly he managed to make friends. They were friends now, weren't they? Her eyes wandered to the bottom of the page as the all-too-familiar word caught her attention. _Fuck._ _Maybe I should have stuck with the Cheers after all. He used it, and it doesn't sound forced or phoney in any way, unlike what I was dreading._

She dismissed the thought, satisfying herself with the implication that she wasn't as much of a writer as Robby was, though she seriously doubted it. Laughing softly to herself, she replied saying that she'd love to visit him the coming Saturday, if he was cool with it. As it turned out, he was indeed cool with it as he replied not more than ten minutes later, featuring a long string of thumbs-up emojis.

That little exchange giving her the extra boost of energy she needed that morning, she launched herself out of bed and into the activities of the day. When Will sat down to breakfast, he was surprised to see his sister so invigorated, even humming to herself as she put out cheese and cucumber sandwiches instead of the usual scrambled eggs and toast.

"Hey, what's up with you today?" He asked, watching as she sat down beside him after giving their mother a plate as well.

"Hm? What's wrong with me?" She asked, curiously.

"You're smiley and happy, which is really out of character for you, especially on Monday mornings. What can I hold accountable for this behaviour change?" He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily while he fixed her with a smug stare.

"Uh," Tory felt her cheeks heat up as she revelled in the warm, fuzzy feeling that occupied her from inside, while simultaneously she struggled to find a logical explanation for feeling this way. Yes, so she had patched things up with Robby after a long time of hating each other due to siding with their respective dojos, purely out of loyalty. They both had to have known that it was never anything personal between the two of them, but the rivalry between Robby and Miguel, and her and Samantha had eventually led to passively hating each other too.

Now that they no longer saw Miguel and Sam daily, their vendetta against each other– well, whatever little was there, had fizzled out, and Tory was glad for that. Yeah, that's why she was happy. She gazed back pointedly at her brother, who was snickering at her, assuming the worst.

"Actually, it's because I finally made peace with someone I was pointlessly feuding with. Feels good. _Not whatever you were getting at,_ " She saw his smile falter slightly, no doubt disappointed thanks to whatever salacious saga he was cooking up in that twelve-year-old mind of his. She checked the time and hurried into her room to change for her shift.

"Get the dishes, Willy! I'm going to be late. And get ready for school!"

It was a typical, but not so typical morning at the Nichols house. 

* * *

"Name?" The officer stationed at the entrance just seemed bored out of his skull.

"Tory Nichols."

"Who are you here to visit?"

"Robby Keene."

"Relation?" Tory wondered how they were related. Acquaintances, probably? The officer arched an eyebrow as he asked, "Are you his girlfriend? If you are, Keene's a lucky one."

She ignored the obvious fact that he was trying to flirt with her, and failing miserably, at that.

"Sorry to disappoint you," she replied, nonchalantly, "I'm just a friend."

He shrugged and rolled his eyes as he passed a form for her to sign. She obliged, and he led her inside.

"Wait here, I'll get him."

A few minutes later, he returned with Robby in tow, and Tory had to pretend to look away. He wore a simple white sweatshirt and blue trainers, like everyone else there.

"Hey," he smiled, settling down on the seat opposite her.

"Hey. I told you I'd show."

"You look good," he observed, eyes travelling up and down the girl in front of him.

"You look...not so much. I kind of got the idea that you were having a hard time here, but this?" She said, gesturing at his bruised face and a black eye, "I honestly didn't expect it."

Robby chuckled, absent-mindedly fingering his hair. "I'm not used to having it so short," he complained, purposely flattening it out against his face to make it look as long as it could.

"Me too, I'm not used to seeing it so short." Seeing his mock frustration, she put up her hands in surrender. "But it suits you."

"Thanks," he said, grinning.

"So, tell me about Sensei Kreese's visit. What did he say?" Tory folded her arms across her chest, listening intently.

"I honestly don't know what he had in mind, but he told me stories about my dad's time at Cobra Kai, and how it's in my blood and that I should come back where I belong. He mentioned that Miyagi-Do won't help me in dealing with the folks here," Saying so, he tilted his head towards a burly boy who was at least six feet tall, his dark skin glistening against the room's bright lights. He smiled a twisted, cunning smile at Robby, pointing his middle finger at him. Robby just sighed and ignored him.

"What's his problem?" Tory asked, thankful that she didn't end up in a similar place.

"Who knows? He's made my life here miserable since day one." Robby sounded like he had accepted it for a fact, that he didn't care anymore and would rather let the bully have his way with him.

"Dude, why? You know karate, so you should be able to fuck him up real good! I mean, you kicked a guy off two floors, literally!"

Robby frowned at her, and she gulped nervously. Oops, that came out wrong. Not entirely wrong, though.

"I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was, why do you let him sit on top of you? Sensei Kreese was right about one thing, though. You'll never make it out of here in one piece if you follow what LaRusso taught you and continue to play it safe. You have to be aggressive and strike first; you have to intimidate the guy into submitting, you have to work your way to the top of the food chain here, or it's game over."

Robby listened earnestly, absorbing every word. His eyes were lit with a new kind of fire, a cold, calculating one quite contrary to the calm and determined one he had about him while in Miyagi-Do. He nodded, processing the advice.

"You know, that makes sense," he admitted, grudgingly.

"I know it does. Life shows no mercy, so why should we? Defeat does not exist. Remember that, and you'll get along just fine." He narrowed his eyes and nodded in agreement.

"Say what you want; you're much more convincing than your Sensei." He shot a glare at his nemesis, and looked back at Tory. "He doesn't stand a chance anymore."

An officer tapped him on the back. "Time's up, Keene."

Robby stood up reluctantly and smiled at Tory. It was a genuine smile, full of warmth and joy at his newfound friendship, and grateful for the company he had been longing for.

"This was nice," he said shyly, holding out a hand. Tory shook it gladly before handing him a brown paper bag.

"What's this?"

"I assumed you'd like a change from shitty prison food. Security cleared it, don't worry."

He laughed. "You got that right. Thanks a lot. Keep writing, will you?"

"No problem, I will." She turned to leave when something hit her. She turned back around and raised an imaginary glass, pointing at the bag. "Cheers!"

He shook his head, dissolving into giggles.

_"Cheers."_


	19. Rematch

**_Present Day_ **

She threw punch after punch in the air, kicking hard at the opponent whose image flashed in front of her eyes, clear as day. Exhaling in short, measured breaths as she felt the chilly December weather, Tory knew that she'd rather be here than anywhere else. Nothing but the silent lapping of the waves, and the soft grains of sand, sometimes cool, sometimes warm, under her feet.

As a light breeze blew, caressing the sweat on her forehead, Tory breathed deeply as she bent forward to touch her toes to relax. This was the only place where she felt...completely in control. All her worries and obligations were temporarily washed away whenever she came to practice at the beach, either early in the mornings or late at night. Tory decided to take a break, setting herself down on the sand and taking a sip of water.

She hugged her knees to her chest as she closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the quiet. A few moments later, she sensed someone standing there, a shadow looming over and blocking out the pleasant sunlight.

_"Tory?!"_

The person let out a shocked exclamation, and Tory's eyes flew open when she heard the all-too-familiar high pitched shriek. She stood up to her full height, facing the girl in front of her. Her blood boiled at the unmistakable head of dark brown hair, blue eyes staring at her with hatred and fear.

"LaRusso?"

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked, backing away a little bit. Tory scoffed at the girl's attempt to be intimidating, but failing to be anything but the coddled pansy that she was. Tory stepped forward, jerking her shoulders forward suddenly towards Sam, and her lips curled into a sly smile when she saw the other girl flinch. 

"Once a pussy, always a pussy," she remarked, glaring at her rival. "Besides, just because Daddy's got money doesn't mean that you own the whole world. It's a public beach, bitch."

Sam bit her lip as she frowned. "I never said anything like that," she said, indignantly. "I simply didn't expect to – or _want_ to run into you here. Thanks to your extremely amiable personality. You need to stop looking for fights."

Tory just couldn't stand Samantha's zen, preachy attitude. She seemed to come across to everyone as the perfect girl with the perfect life; perfect Daniel LaRusso's perfect daughter who could never do anything wrong. Did no one see the opportunist under her sickly sweet veneer?

"Why? 'Cause, you're too scared to humour me?" She snarled, her hands balling into fists. "Or maybe it's because last time, you won by pure chance, and even you know that it's not happening again!"

Sam's body trembled in terror, and she gasped when her eyes fell on the famed spiked bracelet. Her fingers closed around her right arm, covering up the slashed scars Tory had caused months ago. Her breathing turned shaky and ragged as she sunk into the sand with her head between her hands. Her shoulders shook as petrified tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Come on, Sam, keep it together," she whispered to herself, trying to calm down. "Deep breaths, you can do this, just focus. Find your balance, and you'll be fine. Just breathe in, and breathe out–"

Tory pulled her up roughly, grabbing her by her arm. "Enough with the melodrama," she snapped, getting into a fighting stance. "Time for a rematch, Princess."

She lunged forward, slapping her hard on both cheeks to snap her out of her staged trance. Sam glanced at her, shock written all over her face and she squeezed out a few more of those easy tears.

"Tory, why are you doing this? What will it take for you to just leave me alone? I didn't do anything to you, but here you are!" She said, a scornful edge to her voice.

Tory just screamed and landed a front kick to her gut, sending her staggering backwards.

"Put up a fight, LaRusso! Prove to me that you're not as weak as you appear! Come on, show me what you're made of!" She bellowed, as Sam struggled to find her footing in the sand. She weakly tried to throw a punch to Tory's face, but she caught her hand easily, twisting it and pinning it behind her back, causing her to bend over. She kneed her in the stomach multiple times, Sam's pained cries seemed like music to her ears, ringing out loud and clear in the secluded beach.

"Aah, stop, please!" She shrieked, bent over helplessly. "Tory, you're going to break my arm! Stop it, please! I'm begging you!"

"Fight back then, Princess! Not everything is handed to you, contrary to your experiences," Tory said, pressing Sam's arm harder. "Fight back, and force me to let you go. Just like you forced me to start all this."

"What? I never forced you to– ouch! Stop it!" Sam could feel the immense pain in her arm, like it would be severed from its socket any minute, and hang loosely by her side. The night at Golf N' Stuff cane back to her, how she sat there, cowering in the shadows while her friends got beaten up. She remembered Demetri's terror-stricken face as Hawk held him in a similar lock, and his agonised cry when the boy he had trusted his whole life carried out his threat. She would never forget that day. She let her friends down, and she could never live it down.

She watched the livid girl in front of her, blonde curls falling over her face as she glared at her with gritted teeth. Panic threatened to take over yet again as the vision of the school fight clouded her thinking; Tory dragging her down the stairs by her hair, the blinding pain as the metal spikes sliced through her skin, her heart in her throat as she watched Robby kick Miguel off the second floor. She was brought back to the moment soon enough as the pain in her shoulder only grew.

 _"If you're out to seek revenge, you can start by digging two graves."_ Her father's words came back to her, and she was suddenly back in the woods, learning her first lesson on balance on the tree all those years ago. As her footing faltered, she lost balance and fell off.

_"Are you okay, Sam?" Daniel asked, brushing the dirt off her knees._

_She nodded, standing up. "I'm a strong girl, dad." He smiled, saying that indeed, she was._

_"Alright, get back up there and try again. Find your balance, Sam. If you concentrate, it's not that difficult."_

_"Yeah, I'm going to show that tree who's boss!" She declared, eyes sparkling determinedly. "Time to get my revenge."_

_"What? No, no, no, no! Revenge is the last thing you should have on your mind. Karate is for defence only, never to intentionally inflict pain. Understand that, and keep it in mind forever."_

Sam knew that she couldn't go down this way, without offering any resistance to this monster. She headbutted Tory in the nose, causing her to loosen her grip on her arm. Wincing as she pulled her arm free of Tory's grasp, she used a hook punch to her chin, taking her by surprise.

Tory roared with agitation, wiping the blood off her nose. LaRusso seemed to be fighting with renewed energy, and she had to stem that.

"You're going down," Sam said, about to lunge forward when the beach lifeguard came rushing towards them.

"What's going on here?" He demanded, looking at the two girls sternly.

"Uhh... We were just– we weren't..." Sam faltered, cracking under pressure, nearly jumping out of her skin when she felt Tory wrap her arm around her shoulder.

"Nothing, sir, we were just doing some friendly sparring. Weren't we, _Sammy?_ " She said, in a bright voice, smiling widely at the man and fixing Sam with a look that said, _You better play along._

"Y-Yes. We were just sparring, that's all! Nothing to be worried about here, just two best friends and our friendly banter!" She chuckled nervously, her heart pounding as the man just shrugged.

"Whatever. As long as I don't get in trouble for either of you getting hurt," he said and walked away soon enough.

As soon as he was far enough, Sam tried to remove Tory's hand, but her head reeled in shock when she saw the other girl's hand crawling around her neck. Before she knew it, she couldn't breathe, choking on the little air she could get. Her head felt heavy as her body threatened to drop to the ground, but she didn't dare to give out, for who knew what Tory would do with her once she passed out?

"T–Tory! Stop! Please! Beg– you!" She spluttered, her hands working furiously to shake off Tory's iron grip. In the spur of the moment, she swept her leg against Tory's, tripping her and sending them both tumbling to the ground. Sam wriggled free and rolled over, lying flat on her back as she took massive breaths to make up for all the air she had been denied.

"All right, LaRusso. I guess that's enough for today." Tory said, standing up and shaking sand off her clothes. She looked her dead in the eye, before saying, "You tell anyone, and I'll make sure you're in a living hell. Understood?"

"Like you aren't doing that already," Sam muttered, earning a glare from Tory.

"What was that, bitch?" She asked, in a dangerous voice.

"Nothing." Sam decided she didn't want any more trouble, and having Tory seek her out was the last thing she wanted to deal with. She was purified enough, as it was. She heaved a sigh of relief as she watched Tory pick up her things and walk away.


	20. Use Your Judgement

**_A/N: Mild trigger warning for violence in this chapter._ **

**_Present Day_ **

Tory didn't know what snapped inside her, but seeing Samantha LaRusso was enough to remind her of the reason they were in this whole mess. LaRusso kissed Miguel. LaRusso stole her boyfriend, and then expected her to be cool about it? With every hit she landed on the brunette, she felt like she was getting payback for all the things that had gone wrong for her. By the end of it, it was like pure fire was oozing out of every pore in her body. She wouldn't have shown mercy, not at all, if it weren't for the stupid lifeguard. As she walked away in a huff, her sensei's words echoed in her ears.

_"Mercy is for the weak."_

_"The world does not show mercy, so why should we?"_

_"The fight is only over when you say it is."_

Tory hesitated, but was immediately reminded that _mercy_ nearly cost Miguel his life. One moment, he was in control of the fight, he had Robby in a deadlock, and the next, he went spiralling down. She wouldn't make that mistake. She wouldn't go soft. She stopped abruptly and turned around. Sam was still there, lying on her back in the sand, panting slightly. She wondered if she should do this, and the scar on her face took her back to the horrifying moment that the tables turned.

_No, leave it alone. You've done enough for today. Use your judgement._

But the Cobra Kai in her refused to relent.

_You don't wait for your opponent to strike. You always strike first._

She nodded, slowly making her way back to Sam. Noticing the shadow approaching her, Sam sat up.

"What do you want?" She asked, arms crossed haughtily.

"Shut up, Princess," Tory snapped. "I changed my mind."

"What? But that's not fair!" Sam exclaimed, frowning.

Tory snickered, edging closer and closer. " _Life_ isn't fair, but what would you know?"

Sam stood up, reluctance in her eyes, but ready to fight, nevertheless.

"You know what? I'm not afraid of you; I pity you, that you have to live such a miserable life spent hating the people around you. You don't know love, you don't know compassion, and most of all, you don't know forgiveness. You're a heartless creature with nothing but vengeance in your heart, and I pity anyone who has to live like that."

"You don't know the first thing about me, bitch." Tory scowled, wanting to rip her pretty face apart.

Sam shrugged. "I know enough."

This time, it was Miyagi-Do that made the first move. Sam thrust a vicious backfist to Tory's jaw, taking her aback. She wasted no time in delivering a quick series of punches and kicks, forcing her opponent to retreat. Tory landed on the ground, spitting out same that got in her mouth and glaring daggers at Sam. She was regretting her decision to follow through and attack Sam a second time. Sam walked over, standing over her with a triumphant smirk.

"My dad always said, ‘If you're out to seek revenge, you can start by digging two graves.’ But looking at you, I think you'll be needing just one." She laughed as she flipped her hair behind her shoulders.

Tory just couldn't take it anymore. Why did Sam have the better life, the doting family, the mansion and the wealth, the beauty; absolutely all of it? She couldn't bear to look at the girl with her doll-like face, her smug smile and her brown hair falling over her shoulders in soft curls. It was infuriating. She pounded her fist on the sand, forcing herself up despite the throbbing pain in her head and the soreness in her limbs. Her nose trickled blood again, but she barely noticed as it painted a picture over her tank top.

_Fear does not exist in this dojo._

She shook her head clear of all the memories, only recalling the fifty knuckle pushups Sensei Kreese would dish out to anyone who dared to flinch during training. She watched as Sam's jaw dropped ever so slightly, shying away from the inevitable hell that was bound to break loose over her.

_Pain does not exist in this dojo._

Leaping to her feet, she hobbled to the shorter girl. Every step felt like she was walking on two frail twigs, her legs wobbled, threatened to fail to hold her up for much longer. She could only recall the crunch of the glass sheet back in the dojo, the icy sensation when her knuckles sunk into it. The tears that pricked the corners of her eyes. The sharp tip of her bracelet ripping through the flesh of her cheek as the blood coloured her tears red. The dull ache in her abdomen, which had been the target of most of Sam's attacks that day; it all just fuelled her further.

_Defeat does not exist in this dojo._

Never could she forget everything she'd ever lost in her life; her birth parents, her mother's health, her girlfriend Jamie, Miguel, her friends, while Sam was put on a pedestal by all those around her. She wasn't going to lose again. She roared in rage, sweeping Sam's foot and tripping her to the ground. Sam caught her arm, taking Tory down with her. Elbowing her in the chest, Sam rolled over and pinned Tory to the ground, punching her in the face again and again.

Tory managed to grab Sam's arms and kicked her hard in the gut, sending her flying backwards. She stood up staggeringly, squinting at the sunlight, her vision blurry thanks to her stinging left eye. It was going to be beautifully bruised tomorrow. She looked around for Sam, who was also struggling to get back on her feet. This was getting out of hand, and had to end now. Tory would give Sam an experience that she'd never forget for her whole life.

She roughly pulled her up, meeting enquiring brown eyes. Tory just shook her head and put her fingers to her lips.

"Take a deep breath, Princess," she whispered, and Sam stared at her, confused. Before the other girl could react, Tory threw her down again, face-first into the sand, and held her there, feeling Samantha squirming against her hands.

"Mmm, Tory! Let me go, please!" Sam's pleas came out muffled as she thrashed about helplessly in the sand, yelling, begging for mercy but to no avail.

"Full of yourself much, LaRusso?" Tory teased, pushing her head further down.

Sam screamed in protest, frantic as she felt her head pushed deeper and deeper into the sand, and her hand pinned under her stomach. She suffocated under Tory's weight, and suddenly, she thought that this was it. This was how it ended. She was going to die here, and she'd never see her family, or Miguel, or Robby ever again. She stopped struggling, knowing that it wouldn't help anything.

Tory felt Sam's body go still, and she froze in shock. Had she killed Sam LaRusso? What had she done? She withdrew her hands from Sam and rolled her over, hoping fervently that she hadn't done what she thought she had. She wasn't a murderer; she merely hated the girl with a passion, and was out to justify her behaviour and get revenge.

"LaRusso?" She said, shaking Sam's limp body. "LaRusso, can you hear me? _LaRusso!_ "

She grabbed her by her shoulders, trying to shake her into consciousness. This couldn't be happening. Sam's eyes were closed, her lips pale, and she didn't seem to be breathing. She looked around frantically, seeing people slowly filling up the beach. They couldn't see this. She would get arrested, thrown in juvie, imprisoned for life, probably. What would happen to her mother and Will? Who would take care of them? What would Miguel and Robby think?

_Tory, no!. Stop thinking of yourself. What the hell would the_ _LaRussos_ _think if I killed their daughter?_

She grimaced at the thought of the utmost grief the loss of a loved one brought, and no one knew better than her, for she was watching her mother slowly die. She caught sight of a little shack a few metres away, and decided to go there. Carefully lifting Sam over her shoulder, she walked as fast as she could towards it, trying her best not to catch anyone's eye.

The shack was a small, dark place built with wood that was slowly rotting because of the high tide. There was an opening about four feet wide that served as an entrance, and there was no floor, just the sand. With her heart thumping out of her chest, Tory laid an unconscious Sam onto the ground gently, her hands shaking at the thought of what she could have done. Anger took over, jealousy and hate followed, and look where it landed her.

"Oh god, LaRusso, wake up!" She pleaded, tapping Sam's face, trying to revive her. She tried a quick web search, and lifted Sam's legs above her chest to increase blood flow to her brain.

"Come on, LaRusso! Don't do this, please!" Tory was now possessed by the fear of the fact that Sam might as well be dead, from her hands. She hated the girl with every fibre of her being, but would never even think of killing her! She held Sam's legs in place with one hand while she fumbled with her water bottle with the other, trying to open it. "Holy shit, why is the lid on so right?" She groaned, her palms drenched with sweat as panic rose in her.

She finally managed to get it open and splashed water on Sam's face repeatedly, hoping against hope that she would regain consciousness. It was a race against time, and she really didn't want it to get to the point where she had to call an ambulance, for explaining the situation would be a massive problem.

"LARUSSO! PLEASE! I'M SORRY!" She begged, tears running down her cheeks. "LaRusso– Sam, please get up. Please!"

She eventually lost hope, slumped against the walls as she hated herself for following Kreese's damned motto. She took out her phone and dialled 911, just about to hold it to her ear when Sam's eyes flew open and she gasped for breath.


	21. In Retrospection

_**Present Day** _

Sam opened her eyes, coughing up all the sand that had somehow made its way into her mouth. Her eyes burned and she felt weak all over. She tried to sit up but just flopped back onto the cool sand. She spotted someone kneeling over her, but couldn't seem to recognise their face partly due to the darkness, and partly due to her hazy vision. They seemed to be concerned, checking her pulse and making sure she was breathing.

"LaRusso? You okay?"

Sam's eyes widened in fear as she recognised Tory's husky voice, and tried to scramble away from her. A strong arm caught hers, restricting her movement and pulling her closer. Sam struggled against Tory's grip, trying to wriggle free.

"Stop resisting, LaRusso! I'm not going to hurt you!" Tory whisper-yelled, pulling her up slowly and propping her up against a wall.

"Wait, you're not?" Sam stared at her, utterly confused. "I don't believe you!"

Tory sighed and held up her hands in surrender. "I swear I'm not going to. Do you feel okay? Should I get you water or something?"

Samantha, who was leaning weakly against the wall, sat bolt upright at that. "You, Tory Nichols, are offering me water? What's going on?"

Tory just rolled her eyes and handed her the water bottle. Sam shook her head, claiming that she was fine.

"Take it, LaRusso!" Tory insisted, shoving it into her hand. "You need it!"

Sam arched an eyebrow. "You sure it's not drugged? I don't trust you."

Tory stood up immediately, the accusation stinging. "What'd you say?" She demanded, teeth gritted.

"I said, I. Don't. Trust. You." Sam said it simply, shrugging like it was obvious. "Who knows why you even brought me here?"

She could feel her temper rising, and she fought to keep it under control. After all, that's what got them into this situation. She forced herself to ignore the jibe and focused on trying to get Sam out of there, but her rival's defiant stare only unsettled her. She walked over to Sam, her eyes dark with the hate she always harboured.

"You're such a little bitch, do you know that?" She hissed, kneeling to meet Sam's face level.

"You're not too far from insane yourself." Sam glared right back, undeterred.

All good intentions long forgotten, Tory grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt and threw her to the ground on her back. Sam groaned as she tried to roll onto her side, but Tory kicked her in the stomach. Her head jolted up as she looked like her eyes would pop out of her head, tears silently escaping the crystal blue eyes as she let out a soft moan. Tory cackled as she pulled her bracelet around her wrist once again, aiming for Sam's face, when Sam's hand rose in a weak block, but strong enough to avoid Tory's fist.

"What did I tell you?" Sam choked out, sprawled on the sand. "You're insane!"

Tory couldn't stand her hurling insults at her, and it frustrated her that she was affected by the words that escaped the girl's mouth even when she was flat out on the ground. She saw red all around, and without warning, launched herself on top of Sam and began to pummel her thoroughly, while the other girl just whined like a scared puppy. It was pathetic.

"Can't hold your own, Princess?" Tory taunted, pulling her up by her hair yet again.

She felt Sam's panicked breaths on her elbow as she pinned her against a wall, her other hand with the bracelet ready for action. Sam looked at her with desperate eyes, a silent plea to let her go.

"You win," she whimpered, shielding her face from Tory while wincing at the sharp pull she felt on her head. Tory really had improved by miles since the school fight, and Sam was no match for her anymore. She shuddered as the steel spikes glinted under the single ray of sunlight that entered the little shack, inching closer and closer to her face.

"You win, Tory. I lost. Please let me go!" She begged, tears now readily streaming down her pale cheeks, and Tory had to hold back the urge to slap her on her pretty face.

"We show the enemy no mercy, LaRusso," she growled, and raised her hand to slash through Samantha's cheek when it hit her like a truck. Sam's shallow breathing and pale face reminded her why they both were really here, and she cursed silently for losing control so easily. She loosened her grip on Sam's hair, letting her slide to the ground, and Tory slumped down beside her, her limbs suddenly devoid of all energy and will to strike. 

* * *

" _LaRusso?" She looked over her shoulder to see Tory just staring into her eyes, panting lightly._

_"LaRusso?" She said, gentler this time. Sam cocked her head to a side, before shifting to face her. Her face was set in a look of utter confusion, unaccustomed to Tory's soft tone._

_"What?" She asked, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper_.

_"I'm sorry."_

_A loud silence ensued, white noise blaring in both their ears as the two girls just sat there and stared at each other open-mouthed. Sam blinked thrice, her lips forming an 'o' in shock, before parting again to say something, but nothing came out. She was positive that she was in some delusional dream at that moment. Tory had knocked her out, and she was probably passed out in some dingy alleyway among trash cans and dumpsters. Yes, that must be it._

_Tory looked at her expectantly, hazel eyes burning with an unspoken question. Her eyebrows were scrunched up in a worried frown as she sat with her knees hugged to her chest. She looked, to Sam, strangely... vulnerable, in that position. It was as if she was hanging on to the next words Sam uttered, like a lifeline. Sam was in control this time, and she could see it in Tory's eyes as the fire slowly died down to a hopeful mass of embers lightly crackling away, regret flashing evidently in them._

_She looked at Sam expectantly, silently begging her to respond. The silence was killing Tory, and both girls knew it._

_"LaRusso," she urged, wiggling her eyebrows at her. "Say something!"_

_Sam looked back with eyes as wide as saucers._

_"Huh?" She squawked, intelligently, still refusing to believe what she just heard. "Say that again?"_

_She winced as Tory stretched out her arm, but it ended up running through her hair in despair._

_"I'm sorry. For the school fight, for just now; I– I just got ahead of myself. I lost control of my feelings and couldn't get a hold on my actions. It's not been easy for me, but I guess I shouldn't have directed all that pent up anger at you. It took me way too long to realise this, but I'm glad I did before it was too late. I'm sorry for that too."_

_"You mean it?" Sam asked, eyes widening._

_She nodded. "I do. Do you think we can... erase this history of rivalry between us?"_

_"Erase?" Sam repeated, now absolutely certain that this was a dream. "Like, start over as friends?"_ _She felt, and was sure she even looked like a deer caught in the headlights._

_Tory threw her head back and laughed. "Friends? You know that us trying to be friends is a no shot, right? You're too stuck up for my taste, LaRusso."_

_Sam scowled at that, but before she could make any retorts, Tory continued talking._

_"I meant, more like a truce._ _You know, we both got on each other's nerves real good, but I kinda pushed it after a point._ _What I propose is that we just leave each other alone. That's it."_

_Sam shrugged. "That does sound doable..."_

* * *

"LaRusso!"

Sam felt herself being shaken awake by Tory, and she groaned. So it really was a dream! What wouldn't she do for a nice truce right now? She was so sick of getting her ass beaten in every time she stepped out. She took Tory's outstretched hand and pulled herself into a sitting position. Her head was throbbing with an awful headache, and her vision was slightly blurry.

"LaRusso!" Tory's voice seemed distant, like she was underwater and Tory was calling her from the surface.

"Where are we?" She asked, feeling sluggish. "What happened?"

"You passed out in the middle of a conversation. That's what happened. You okay now?"

"Uh, I guess." Sam was wary of receiving Tory's care, and had no idea what she was doing in that place. She took a deep breath. She needed to find out if it was real or not.

"So," she began, treading cautiously. "I had a strange dream..."

Tory raised her eyebrows. "Go on."

"You were apologising for everything you did, said that you're to blame for all of it, and were proposing that we start over and call a truce." Sam waited intently for a change in Tory's expression, for her to either start laughing hysterically or begin whaling on her again. To her astonishment, she did neither. She just nodded.

"That wasn't a dream. Well, half of it's true. I did apologise for trying to kill you, but I never said I'm to blame for all of it. Hell, you're the one that started all of this! We'd never be in this position if you hadn't accused me of stealing!" Tory protested, indignantly.

"But you _did steal_ a bottle of vodka!" Sam cried back, her cheeks slowly colouring. "How was I to know that you weren't above stealing wallets!"

"But I didn't, bitch!" Tory yelled back, before biting her lip and muttering something to herself.

"Shit, what are we doing?" She mumbled, running a hand through her hair and untangling it. "I was trying to apologise before we started bickering again. Seriously, LaRusso, I'm sorry about what I almost did today. I mean it."

Tory seemed earnest enough, but Sam stayed quiet for a while.

"Wait," she spoke up after a few minutes. "What was that you said?"

Tory clicked her tongue in irritation. "How many times do you want.me to say it, you sadist? I said: _I'm sorry!"_

Sam shook her head. "No, after that."

Oh. _Oh._ Right, she didn't remember.

"I, uh, I said, I'msorryforalmostkillingyoueventhoughIwasn'ttryingtobutIstillalmostdid." Tory said it all very fast, and Sam gasped when she understood it.

"You... You tried to kill me?"


	22. Look Me In The Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm so sorry for my absence over the last few days, but with my finals coming up, I've been SWAMPED with studying, and I couldn't think of good enough content. Anyways, it's here now, so enjoy!! Please do leave a comment if you have absolutely anything to say, I love hearing from you!
> 
> Until next time <3

_**Present Day** _

"What the hell?" Sam screamed, standing up. Tory's confession finally awakened the memory of the incident that had occurred barely half an hour ago.

_The stifled screams as she felt a firm hand on the back of her head, slowly but surely burying it into the warm, slightly damp sand. Her head was still fuzzy from when she felt all her airways slowly block, her nose and mouth shoved deeper and deeper down. Her eyes moist, she remembered dark spots dancing in front of her as she felt a tiny crab wriggle past, brushing her cheek. She shuddered, praying that she wouldn't get stung or bitten or whatever it was that crustaceans did._

_She remembered the dread as her heart just sank into her stomach, leeching all hope away from her. With Tory's taunts growing fainter and fainter above her, there was a lingering sadness that somehow, she had let her parents down by surrendering, by going out in this fashion. She felt like she had tarnished the LaRusso name by submitting to a Cobra Kai, allowing herself to be so ruthlessly overpowered. Then again, what choice did she have? She remembered as the burning in her throat grew from all the desperate screaming and pleading, and she remembered sobbing out 'I love yous' to her family before she stopped struggling._

_She saw the world go bleak, the ticklish tingling of the sand against her skin get less distinct, and with her ears ringing, drowning Tory out, it all felt... peaceful? For a moment, at least. She regretted not being able to apologise to Miguel and Robby, and as the last tears wetted her cheeks before becoming one among the zillions of grains in the sand, she felt her eyes flutter shut for the last time, probably._

A lifeguard's whistle somewhere in the distance shook her out of her trance, and she shivered slightly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself. Sand-caked strands of hair fell over her eyes as she stared straight at the girl who was the root of the problem. Tory fidgeted with a random strip of cloth lying around, her eyes flicking to Sam and darting back downwards in anticipation. Sam was fuming inside, yet she couldn't bring herself to assert dominance over Tory, for the other girl had barely spared her life.

"LaRusso! Zoned out again?" Tory asked, looking over at Sam.

Though she intended no malice, all Sam could hear was the satisfied purr of a tigress that had her prey cornered, the eerie hiss of the Cobra, and her deep voice leaking poison.

"No need to be so mean all the time!" Sam spat back, and Tory's expression darkened.

"You're the one playing the wrong cards, Princess," she muttered, and Sam noticed her long fingers painted with glossy black nail polish clench into tight fists in an attempt to control her anger.

Her anger. She was jealous, hence the name _Princess._ _Daddy's credit card_. All of it was purely because Tory was jealous! All this for petty jealousy? Sam wasn't to blame for having had a wealthy upbringing, and neither was she at fault for Tory not having the same privileges. She seethed as she saw the other girl slumped against the wall, legs spread out in indifference as she anxiously chewed the tips of her hair. Sam nearly gagged as she caught sight of her ungainly habit. She cleared her throat, fixing Tory with the best icy glare she could muster.

"Tory. Look at me."

Tory nodded her head slowly, silently asking her to go on.

"You know what you did, and now you're going to pay for it." Samantha felt a new kind of energy seeping into her, one powered by anger, and she smirked lightly as Tory's face fell when she heard Sam reiterate her own line.

"LaRusso– I mean, Samantha. Samantha, please don't tell your parents about this. Please." Tory's face was ashen as Sam swore she could see a shred of fear in her eyes, and her voice shook as she spoke.

Sam's lip curled as she sighed deeply. "And why would I listen to you?" She cooed, drawing random patterns on the sand with her fingers.

"I c-can't afford to go to juvie. I- you won't understand."

"Oh yeah? I'd say you're just scared!"

"I'm not! I just can't leave home!"

"And why is that, _bitch?"_

Sam was enjoying herself at that moment. Getting to blackmail and threaten Tory was an opportunity she hadn't been given yet, and she was relishing all of it, determined to get her revenge. Tory looked at her, shell shocked at the expletive that left her mouth. This was usually how she addressed Sam, not the other way around. She bit her tongue, kicking herself for the evident consequences of her actions. She _had_ to be civil with LaRusso, no matter how bad her hands itched to just reach out and slap her pretty little face. A sharp tap on the head jolted her out of her thoughts.

"How dare you lay a hand on me like that?" She growled.

"Shut up." Sam rolled her eyes. "You owe me an answer to my question."

"I don't owe you anything, bi-" Tory stopped herself in time, and Sam chuckled under her breath, apparently astounded.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She asked.

"Nothing."

"Great," she turned in approval. "Now, back to the question. Come on, use your words, or are you _tongue-tied_ in guilt?"

"I don't owe you anything!"

"Ah ah, you sure do! For the school fight, pushing me into the dessert table at the country club, getting us kicked out of the roller rink, and, duh, trying to kill me just now. Anyways, I guess I'll just have to..." Her voice trailed off as she reached into her pocket and dusted the sand off her phone before holding it to her ear.

"No, stop! Don't call your dad!" Tory swatted the phone out of her hands, eyes wild in fear now. She panted heavily, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took, and she wordlessly returned the phone to Sam.

"Don't. Please." She almost whimpered, and Sam burst into laughter.

"Wow, the Queen Cobra begging for mercy!" She laughed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes.

"Please," Tory insisted, and Sam saw her eyes beginning to well up with tears. This was a new side to the monster she had always known.

"Talk. Fast."

Tory hesitated. She didn't want to expose her vulnerability to Samantha LaRusso, of all people. But it was either this or months behind bars, and she shuddered at the mere thought of what would happen to her family without her. She didn't want to come off as the person with a ton of issues, looking for someone to whine to, but she had no choice. This was the truth, wasn't it?

"My mom's terminally ill, she's on dialysis and needs me to take care of her because we can't afford a full-time nurse. I have a little brother who is completely dependent on me for all his essentials."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "Is that true? Or is it some excuse to avoid juvie?"

"It's all true," she said, between gritted teeth. "I had sixty hours of community service, was on probation and all. Just no juvie, because of my family."

"And your dad?"

"Don't have one."

Sam couldn't help but feel a pang for Tory. She was single-handedly managing her family, and that was incredibly stressful being a rich adult with a spouse and a healthy family. Imagine being a poor teenager with a sick mother and a younger brother... It was unimaginable to Sam. Her jaw clenched again, when she remembered what this same 'poor girl' had done to her.

"Everyone has a sob story, but it doesn't give you the right to be a bully." She said, a hard frown across her face.

"LaRusso, please!" Tory implored. "For my family! They can't survive without me, I'm begging you!"

Sam nodded slowly, her brain working at the rate of a bullet train.

"Okay," she said, finally. Tory heaved a huge sigh of relief, smiling to herself.

"Thanks, LaRusso. That was incredibly-"

Sam cut her off, raising a hand for her to be quiet.

"I wasn't finished yet. What's in it for me?"


	23. Colour Me Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you do too while reading it! Leave a comment if you did!!

**_Present Day_ **

She waited tables, serving up trays of piping hot food, wiping them down and watching from afar as people enjoyed their meals. It was the same every day. She didn't love the job, but it wasn't the worst. Occasionally, the nice customers would tip her, compliment her outfit, or just take a few minutes to chat. She loved it when younger kids came in there for first dates, and sometimes she'd give them advice. But she hated the rude customers that'd just take her for granted, yell at her because they were having a bad day, and make unreasonable demands.

"Tory!" She felt a tap on her shoulder, turning around to find herself face to face with her manager, Mr Cooper.

"Yes, sir?"

"You can clock out early. Good work today."

"Really?

Cooper nodded, smiling warmly. "Of course, really. Why else would I say that?"

Tory stood quiet, thankful for the hundredth time that her previous manager was fired. Cooper was an angel compared to that guy.

"Well, go! What are you waiting for?"

"Huh? Oh- yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Tory made to go into the staff area and clock out for the day, when Cooper stopped her.

"Someone's waiting outside for you," he mused, winking at her.

"Who?" Tory asked, confused. She hadn't any plans for that evening, as far as she knew.

"Some boy," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I'll see you tomorrow, unless you're... occupied."

Tory's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "What, no, no! I don't have a boyfriend!"

"When did I ever say that you had one?" Cooper laughed. "That boy could be your brother, for all I know."

Tory stepped out of the restaurant and into the traffic inhabited streets of LA, when she caught somebody leaning against a wall, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Miguel?"

Miguel turned around, greeting her with his dazzling smile. He seemed different from the last time they met, and Tory couldn't quite put a finger on it. Wait a minute...

"You can walk again? You can walk again!" She exclaimed, a wide smile stretching across her face, as she resisted the urge to just jump in and press her lips to his.

He nodded, leaping from foot to foot for proof. "I can walk again," he confirmed.

"That's so great, I'm so happy for you!"

"Yeah, thanks. So, I was wondering if you have a few minutes? You know, we could hang out a little bit? Catch up?"

"Uh-" Tory began to answer, but Miguel cut her off with his usual nervous rant.

"No no no, it's okay if you don't want to. I mean, I want you to, but that's okay if you don't want to, because I know that you have lots to do at home, but if you have some time, we could-" Tory laughed and caught his arm mid-sentence, causing him to stop and stare.

"Miguel, relax. I'd love to."

He shyly held out his hand, and Tory took it, allowing him to lead the way. When he finally stopped, Tory realised that it was the same playground where she took him to get over Sam. Where they had had their first kiss. Tory used to come here at night, but it hit differently at sunset; the sky streaked with vivid pastel hues as the setting sun, a faraway ball of soft orange spied on them from between the climbing ropes. She beamed at him as they sat side by side on the swings, gently swaying back and forth as they watched reluctant little kids being led away by their parents.

"I swear these kids are getting tinier each year," they observed, at the same time. Tory caught Miguel's twinkling eye as laughter bubbled out, easing the lingering awkwardness in the air.

"D-Do you remember the first time we came here?" Miguel stammered, shoving his hands into his hoodie.

"Yeah. That was a beautiful night."

"Yeah, it was."

A comfortable silence fell between the two, as they watched the sky slowly discolour into darkness. Miguel snuck a sidelong glance at the girl standing beside him. Not much time had passed, and yet it felt like an eternity ago that he'd feel the tips of her honey blonde hair brush against his neck as they talked about their days, at this same place. They'd complain about the mountain of assignments they got at school, about Miyagi-Do, and just their lives in general. Things were good back then; he was in top form, Sensei's best student, had a girlfriend and had skyrocketed from nerd to one of the popular guys in mere months! And then, he had to be a butthead and kiss Sam, piss Tory off and get kicked off a balcony. Stellar.

"How's everyone at home?" He asked, hesitating a little.

Tory shrugged. "Same old, same old. Mom's gradually getting worse, meds are getting expensive."

Miguel clicked his tongue lightly. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks. She asks about you sometimes."

"She does? Tell her I'm thinking of her, will you?"

She nodded. "She'll be happy to hear that. Will really misses you, though. He feels like he needs more guys in his life. Bored of his sister, I guess."

Miguel chuckled at that, eyeing her hands rested on her lap. Just a few inches away... No, too soon.

"Yeah, how is he? I've missed him, too."

"He's just the same. You know, you should drop by sometime. They'd love to see you!" Tory's enthusiasm waned as she remembered that they weren't dating anymore. They were barely friends anymore! More like, acquaintances? "I-I mean, only if you want..."

Miguel nodded, his eyes lighting up with happiness as the streetlights danced about in his brown irises.

"For sure."

They both looked at each other, and then up at the vast sky, and for the first time in months, neither of them had anything worrying on their minds. Just pleasant thoughts, sweet memories and grateful that they hadn't lost each other for good. As light drops began to fall from the sky, wrenching them ever so slightly, they both had the same thought crossing their minds.

_I've missed this._


	24. Indecisive

_**(6 months ago)** _

"Are you sure?" He asked, in hushed tones. "I don't want to intrude."

Tory rolled her eyes and playfully pinched the arm that was linked with hers, causing him to yelp in alarm. She giggled, placing a finger on his lip to shush him, but he just kissed it instead.

"You know you're drunk, right?" He chortled, and Tory just burst into a louder stream of giggles.

"Yeah, but you're not!"

"And why is that?" Miguel quizzed, pulling her closer into his embrace.

"Because you're a fucking lightweight!" She exclaimed gleefully, stumbling onto the sidewalk. "And I'm better than you!"

Miguel snorted, running a hand through her tangled hair. "No, because I'm meeting your family for the first time, and I want to make a good impression."

"Good– good impression!" Tory choked out, leaning on a pillar to catch her breath. "What kind of impression would you possibly want to make to my sick mother and tiny brother?"

"That I'm a responsible guy who is capable of managing their insufferable daughter and sister, respectively. Don't underestimate your mom, even if she's sick. Girls' moms look at their daughters' boyfriends with murder in their eyes," He stated, matter of factly. "Oh, and did I mention that I'm also smart?"

"Respectivelyyy," she howled, flashing a toothy grin at him. "You're such a nice guy, you're so respectful to everyone, even an annoying kid. So respectively. Look, I'm smart too!"

"Shit," Miguel murmured, supporting her by the waist as she drunkenly led the way back to hers. She was absolutely hammered, and hadn't told him what she was obstinately sucking out of the water bottle until it was all over and she threw it down to the ground and smacked her lips in satisfaction. On the day he was to meet the family, to think.

"Yeah– yeah, babe, you're very smart," he said, half-hauling her in the direction she pointed towards. Hey, at least all that weight training was paying off. Who just drank out of a sports water bottle in broad daylight? Tory Nichols, that's who. She was unique, and her own person. When Miguel asked her why she was drinking right after karate out of a _water bottle_ , she shrugged and replied, ' _Because I want to.'_

 _That's right,_ he thought, casting a loving smile her way. _She doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks._

"Okay, this is the place," she slurred, dragging him to a dilapidated apartment building that had cracks running up the walls and little potted cacti at each corner. "Nothing too fancy, sorry."

"I don't need _any_ fancy!" Miguel protested, observing the elderly couple that shuffled out of the door right in front of them.

"But this is nothing compared to LaRusso's house," Tory pouted, and Miguel just kissed the side of her head.

"I don't need it to be. I don't live in some palace, either. Now, lead the way!"

Tory pulled him over to the other face of the building and then wildly hunted for the keys in her backpack.

"Um," Miguel interjected. "It's in your pocket."

"So grab it for me, will you? My hands are full."

Miguel's fingers edged towards the front of her black jeans, eyeing the lump of the keys in her pocket.

"May I?" He asked, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. She just grunted in affirmation and he slid his hands in and out of her pocket in a flash, not taking any longer than was required.

After much fumbling for the lock, she turned the key and the door creaked open to reveal a small living room with the bare minimum furniture. A maroon sofa, with the worn-out leather peeling off, and a tiny coffee table in front of it. Behind, there was a dining table with four chairs pulled in, though only two of them were ever used these days.

A little boy of about ten came running out, delighted to see Tory. He came to a halt when his eyes fell on Miguel, looking him up and down, taking in everything about him.

"Hey, Willy! There's someone I'd like you to meet," Tory said, releasing her brother from a hug. "This is Miguel. Miguel, my brother Will."

Miguel crouched down to his height and offered his hand. "How's it going, little man?" He asked, chuckling as the boy took it gingerly, still looking at him like he would at an alien.

"Are you Tory's boyfriend?" He blurted, smirking cheekily. "Because you perfectly fit the description of 'that boy from karate' whom I'm tired of hearing about. See what I mean, you're so _buff_!"

"I'm not– I mean, I am– uh, I-" Miguel glanced at Tory for help, and she just shook her head.

"Don't be naughty," She scolded, ruffling his hair. "Yes, he's my boyfriend. Fine, don't you think?"

Will spent a few more moments scrutinising him before nodding with approval.

"Indeed," he mused, pretending to be head over heels in love. "What do you do to be that buff?"

Miguel chuckled, just shaking his head. "I was the skinny guy not too long ago!"

"I need to get buff before my thirteenth birthday! Help me?" Will said, flexing his bicep that was in reality, a bony arm.

"For sure, big boy. But that's a conversation for next time."

"You're going to come over again?" He looked at Miguel, pure hero-worship in his gleaming eyes. Miguel glowed at the gesture, and unknown warmth filling his chest and causing it to puff out with pride. Never had anyone idolised him before; he was usually at the bottom of the food chain being bullied, but this was a welcome change.

"Of course, bud. You're my new best friend, and you're way cooler than your sister, do you know that?" He then lowered his voice to a whisper. "I can sneak you chocolate if Tory doesn't let you have as many. Don't tell her, it's our secret. Man to man."

The two boys shared a hearty laugh over that when they heard Tory's distant shout from her mother's room.

_"But ya know that I'm better than both of_ _youuu_ _!"_

"Is she drunk?" Will asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Miguel grimaced and nodded.

"But it's 7 pm, on a Wednesday!"

"Don't question it. Let's go."

The pair made their way to Mrs Nichols' room, and whatever Tory had told him about her mother apparently wasn't enough to prepare him. She was a thin, frail woman of about forty-five, whose auburn hair fell over her shoulder in unkempt knots. She had an oxygen cannula running into her nose, and a dialysis machine beeped beside her. Her almond skin was sunken under her faded blue eyes with early wrinkles, but when she smiled, she became the beautiful, strong and healthy young woman she would have been once, and undoubtedly still was at heart.

"Who's the handsome young man, Tory?" She asked, sitting up against the headboard.

"I'm Miguel Diaz. Nice to meet you, Mrs Nichols."

"Well, it's lovely to meet you too, honey," she said, smiling brightly. Miguel warmed up to the woman instantly. Here was a woman who was slowly but surely perishing, and she knew it. Yet, she was as fresh as a daisy and greeted every day with a smile. A true inspiration.

"Mrs Nichols– ma'am, uh, I hope I'm not a disturbance by turning up out of the blue. I can leave, if you'd like." Miguel felt like he was imposing himself in the older woman's personal space, and he'd hate to be a nuisance to her. She was going through so much already.

Mrs Nichols laughed, and then coughed hard for a few seconds. Tory immediately rushed to her side, patting her back lightly but in rapid succession with mutters of, _"It's okay, mom, nothing's wrong. Just breathe, you're okay,"_ and Miguel was taken aback by this different side to his girlfriend. She was gentle and loving with him, but this extent of compassion and patience was something that honestly, Miguel never knew Tory had. And it just pulled him further into his frenzy for her.

"Nonsense!" Mrs Nichols exclaimed, regaining her composure at last. "Tory has been babbling about you non stop for the past few weeks, and I was starting to think that she made you up. I'd love to have you anytime, Miguel. And yes, call me Maria."

"So, I know you get asked this way too much, and it probably doesn't even help in any way, but how are you doing?" Miguel broached the subject as mildly as he could, not wanting to upset Tory and her family.

"I'm as good as I can get, which physically, isn't very good but there's nothing I can do about it, can I?" She said, shrugging it off.

Miguel was endeared to Tory's little family, much like his own. He was immediately put at ease by Maria's good-natured humour and ready wit. Will jumped at every opportunity to join the conversation, and by the time it was time for him to go, he wasn't sure who was more smitten by him: Tory, or her brother.

"It was amazing to meet you guys, but I should get going now," Miguel said, standing up.

"You're welcome here anytime, Miguel. Just make sure you're treating my daughter right!" She quipped, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, ma'am!" Miguel mock-saluted and went to grab his duffel bag to leave. 

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

Sam drove back to the LaRusso house, wondering how she'd cover up the innumerable cuts and bruises littered around her body. Her grudging agreement with Tory rang in her ears repeatedly, and she smiled slightly, content. As she pulled up into her driveway, her mind raced ahead of her, skimming through a hundred alibis that she could give her parents.

As she snuck in through the back door, using the home dojo to sprint right into her room, she didn't hear the front door click open. As slammed her room's door shut and locked it, perched cross-legged on her bed, racking her brains for how she could salvage this. She examined her reflection in the mirror, when an idea began to take shape. She leapt off the bed and to her vanity, ransacking her makeup pouches as she found what she was looking for. She covered the scratches and minor cuts with foundation, but realised that covering up the bruises would be useless, for the bumps on her skin would still be very visible. She dabbed at them with concealer, before lightly drawing over them with a lip pencil. There was nothing makeup couldn't solve, seriously.

She was about to do more, but heard a knock on the door.

"Sam, honey, we're home!" Her dad's voice called. Sam stood up and stowed her makeup away before plastering a wide fake smile on her face and opened the door. This much would have to do.

"Hey! How was the country club?" She asked, stepping aside to let her parents in.

"Same as always," Daniel muttered, getting comfortable on her bed. "How was the beach?"

"It was... good! Lots of sun, lots of water, sand, lots of... balance!" She said, brightly, crossing her arms across her chest to cover up the welts. Amanda's sharp eyes didn't miss them, though.

"Sam, honey, come here," she said. "What happened to your arms? And legs?"

Sam hobbled over to her mother, brushing off her concerns. "N-Nothing, mom! Just– uh, insect bites! I was sunbathing and I fell asleep, and woke up ridiculously itchy! There were little red marks all over!" She bit her tongue, wanting to smack herself for that last unnecessary statement.

"Oh, baby, come here! Let me see, are you okay?" Amanda hovered closer, examining Sam's limbs closely, but Sam jumped away.

"No, no, that's n-not necessary! I'm okay! Look? It's not itchy anymore, I applied lots of cream on it. I'm fine, nothing to see here." She faltered, having the grace to look the other way, of she would have been caught flustered.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make an appointment with a dermatologist?" Daniel piped up, the overprotective dad instinct in him kicking in.

"Yeah, absolutely sure! No problems at all, dad! I'm- I'm going to go take a shower, okay? So, bye! I'll see you at lunch! Why aren't you guys moving? Please, leave my room, I have to shower!"

"But, are you sure?"

"Sam, be honest! Mommy and Daddy are here if something's wrong! All you need to do is say the word!"

"Don't shy away from talking to us, baby, we're always here for you. Now tell me, what's bothering you?"

After finally shutting the door behind her oddly concerned parents, Sam flopped back on the bed, exhausted from the whole ordeal.

That was a close one. She probably wouldn't be so lucky next time.


	25. Small World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 1.5k hits!! I'm delighted to see that so many of you have given my story a chance, and I hope you liked what you saw. Many more chapters to come, and some things that I can't spoil yet, YOU WON'T KNOW WHAT HIT YOU! Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments, that means the world to me <3 
> 
> Shoutout to the two biggest supporters of this fic, my best friend who's also my biggest critic and the biggest Tory fan ever, I LOVE YOU, and it's a pleasure to base Tory's character off you. And to my newest friend, FinnHudsonGlee, for your never-ending current of enthusiasm and our intense as ever Cobra Kai debates! Go check out FinnHudsonGlee's stories as well, you'll be blown away! (Sorry I don't know how to link users on here, can someone walk me through it in the comments? Thanks)

_**Present Day** _

_***a few weeks later*** _

Samantha roamed around the area, her mind wandering to all the lies she had been telling her parents in return for Cobra Kai leaving them alone. A small price to pay. She had enjoyed the agitated growl that left Tory's throat upon hearing her proposal, but had grudgingly agreed to it. Throughout Christmas break, Sam and her Miyagi-Do friends bumped into the Cobra Kais at several places, and intimidating them into trying to lunge at her, and then standing back with a smirk as she watched Tory hurry forward to pull them back had been the best part of every day.

As things stood now, they were no longer afraid of Cobra Kai as long as Tory was around, as obscure was it sounded. As she watched throngs of students flood out the gates and then part ways, she spotted one particular student who seemed to be making a beeline for the playgrounds. Miguel Diaz. She trained her eyes on his dark head as he wove past the crowds of elementary school kids moms with toddlers, towards a tall figure waiting for him by the swings. The pair exchanged a brief hug as Sam strained to identify the girl, who seemed vaguely familiar from the back, but hadn't managed to get a glimpse of her face yet.

As they began to walk away, Sam's eyes burned at the sight of Miguel's one hand placed lightly on the mystery girl's waist as he remained lost in animated conversation, watching her gesture with her hands as she spoke. She felt the slight prick of tears at the back of her eyes, and she willed them away. Miguel's hand slowly dropped, now dangling by his side, his fingers precariously brushing Mystery Girl's. Sam found her legs moving in the same direction as them, involuntarily ducking behind benches and slides whenever the couple turned around.

She didn't know what was taking her over, but Miguel didn't owe her anything. They were friends now. Just friends. Then why was she filled with envy at the right of him merely walking with another girl? Why did that simple action prompt her to follow him around like a total creep? After a few more minutes of 'stalking', though she would rather put it as 'looking out for her friend to make sure he's not dating a psychopath', but again, what did she care who he was dating? He could date whomever he wanted, but what if the girl wasn't his girlfriend and was just another friend?

Sam's heart leapt at the idea, and that was when she told herself to stop. This was getting out of hand, she shouldn't do this any longer. What would her father say? What would Mr Miyagi say, had he been here? They'd be ashamed of her for losing her focus and mental balance, for shamelessly chasing after a boy who was possibly already taken, and for prioritising romantic fantasies over her morals. Firm in her resolve, she turned on her heel and started to walk back to her car. Barely a few steps in, she felt the burning urge to turn around and look at what Miguel and Mystery Girl were up to.

 _Don't do it, Samantha,_ she thought, walking at an outrageous pace. _Don't. Do. It._ But she did anyway, and her face contorted with hurt and a wave of anger passed through her. She stood frozen to her spot as she watched Miguel gently pull something out of Mystery Girl's hair, hands intertwined in each other's. Her cheeks burned as she blushed furiously at the sight. Maybe, somewhere deep down, she still had feelings for him. She chuckled slightly as she watched the girl's phone fall out of her back pocket. Served her right for flirting with Miguel like this. When she bent down to retrieve it and moved the hair out of her face, Sam watched in shock, her face ashen as she finally identified Miguel's alleged mystery lover.

It was none other than the angel who made her life hell last year. The same 'angel' who nearly ripped her face out, tried to kill her and begged her to keep it quiet afterwards. Sam's blood boiled as her hands curled into involuntary fists, and she longed to grab Tory by the hair, take her by surprise just like she did to Sam and then beat the living shit out of her. She didn't take note of her flushed face, her hard eyes, or the grinding of her teeth against each other. All she saw was her goal. Get Miguel away from that bitch. Away from her, back to Sam. Where he really belonged.

From underneath one of those children's tunnels, a familiar face emerged all of a sudden. One that Sam hadn't seen in months, and by the looks of her ashen face, wasn't prepared to see yet. Brown hair falling over his green eyes in a way she never remembered it to be, he stepped out into the light, fully in her view, for her to notice that he was thinner than the last time she saw him, with shadows of bruises splattering his arms and face. His face was hardened, a harboured bitterness evident on the chiselled features that once mirrored kindness and balance.

"I guess you finally know how it feels."  


* * *

"I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper breakup," Miguel admitted as they strolled up and down the street.

This had become a daily activity; Tory would finish her shift at the sushi restaurant and then reach the playground just in time for Miguel to meet her there after school. Then they'd just hang around, talk about stuff, and just _be._ The last few weeks had been a real change for Tory, in terms of having a friend who really knew her inside out, who understood her situation and who didn't just feel 'sorry' for her. She had missed what she had with Miguel for so long, and while this wasn't it, it wasn't nothing either. They were friends, and while Tory could never truly get over everything that happened between them, a clean slate felt good.

"I- It's fine. Happened long ago." Wasn't fine at all. Tory was still sore about it, but she wasn't about to ruin their dynamic by bringing it up just yet.

"No, it's not. I was an ass to cheat on you in the first place. But the least I could have done was break up with you officially, and give you some kind of closure. I'm sorry."

"Miguel. Look at me."

So he did. Brown eyes anxiously awaiting the verdict as they flicked up to meet hers.

"I'm sorry too. I was mad at you, but I reacted irrationally, and sometimes, I still feel like it's partly my fault that you got hurt. I feel like I should have come up and had a civil conversation with you instead of blowing up a school-wide fight." She sucked in air, astonished that she even managed to get that out in the open.

Miguel nodded slowly before placing his hand on her shoulder. "Look, don't blame yourself–" Before he could say more, Tory cut him off.

"I said, _partly_ my fault. It was LaRusso's fault for kissing you and starting everything. She's to blame too."

Miguel made a strangled noise at the back of his throat, wanting to interject and add that while it was a drunk Sam that leaned into him, he engaged her and kissed her back, and he was way less drunk that night. So if anything, he was more to blame than Sam was, but he got the feeling that explaining this to Tory, who had it out for Sam, was a lost cause. So he just groaned inwardly and didn't protest. Maybe someday he'd bring it up, but not yet. He didn't want to ruin what they were steadily rebuilding.

His hands dropped from around her waist, finding her hand dangling by her side. He deliberately brushed his against hers a few times, praying that this wasn't a shady move for exes who were giving their relationship second chance, but as friends. For now, at least.

Tory noticed the soft brushing of Miguel's skin against hers, and blushed a little. She coughed loudly and looked the other way to cover it up, subtly linking her fingers with his as she did so. A jolt of electricity ran through her as she savoured the moment; how his hands felt against hers, how both their toughened, battle-hardened palms fit perfectly and gently into one another. And how much she longed to be more than friends. 

* * *

"R-Robby...?" Sam stammered, taking a few shaky steps back. Guilt flooded her as she remembered the taste of Miguel's alcohol tinged lips against hers that night, how it was such a distant and faded yet vividly sharp memory.

"Surprised to see me?" He asked, his voice low and mirthless. He wore an aloof expression, masking whatever he was feeling on seeing Sam after all these months. "Or did you think that I'd forget about everything in juvie?"

"No, Robby, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did-"

"Still chasing after what you can't have?" He said, inching closer.

"This is what you do, Sam. It's all just a challenge for you. It's a spoilt little princess's tantrum, that she wants whatever she knows she can't have. When you were with Miguel, you had your eye on me. You had a boyfriend, and yet. You knew your dad would never approve of it, what with me being my dad's son, but you wanted it. And when you finally had your new toy, you lost all purpose for it because suddenly, you remembered your old toy, Miguel, who was supposed to be out of bounds. After all, you broke up with him, and he had another fucking girlfriend!"

"No, that's not what it is-" Sam was horrified at his interpretation of her. Was that really all she was? A spoilt brat who just wanted boys she couldn't have? No, she refused to believe that. She was Samantha LaRusso, and such things weren't what the LaRussos did. They had a reputation, and they had a conscience. _Unlike some people,_ she thought. Wasn't Miguel out of bounds to Tory as well? Then why was she laundering about him?

"That's _exactly_ what it is, Sam. You think you're the best, you're the perfect daughter to your perfect father, and you're the poor victim in all of this. Wake up!" Robby spat, hurt flickering in his eyes before freezing into angry indifference.

"Robby, this isn't you talking!" Sam protested, her voice catching in the lump that began to form in her throat. "This is the sweet, kind and compassionate Robby Keene I know. Listen to yourself, Robby, you know you're better than this."

He chuckled darkly, a ghost of a smile lighting up his gaunt face. "This is the real me talking, Sam," he said. "For so long, I've been trying to figure out who I am, and I've changed myself in accordance to the people around me so I can fit in. I've looked out for people that stabbed me in the back one too many times, but never again. The world shows no mercy, Samantha LaRusso, and I've learnt that the hard way. I might not know who I am, but I know who I don't want to be. A stuck up pansy like you and your father. Convey my regards to him."

Robby shrugged, watching as steady tears rolled down Sam's face. This wasn't what she had expected to hear from Robby, out of all people, in a billion years, and it hit her like a hurricane. Every word sliced through the shield that she had built around herself since the school fight, and it all came crumbling down.

"If it wasn't clear, this was me breaking up with you, and making it clear that I have no intention of even being associated with you on any terms. Giving us the closure I deserved for months." Robby's expression remained one of stone, nothing escaping him except carefully worded, icily calm words. He nodded slightly before turning around and walking away from her, from them forever.

"Sam, if you'll excuse me."


	26. I'd Rather If You Didn't

**_Present Day_ **

" _Hey," Miguel said, as they sat with their backs pressed against each other under the glow of the streetlights. "I wanted to ask you something."_

_"What is it?" Tory asked, her fingers slowly travelling the grass and finding his hand to hold it. She leaned back, the tips of her hair scratching Miguel's neck, but he didn't mind._

_"So, I've been thinking about this a lot lately," he paused, looking up at the inky sky, unusually devoid of any stars. "And I think we're ready."_

_"Ready for what?"_

_"To pick up where we left off?"_

_Tory jerked forward suddenly, causing Miguel to fall back onto the soft, damp grass. She laid down next to him, her face pale and glowing, bathed in the milky moonlight. Her full lips were coated in the lightest layer of red lipstick, as she tied her dishevelled hair into a ponytail. She smirked at him, her head turned slightly to face him, her eyes narrowed as she squinted through her smudged eyeliner at the blinding headlights of a car that just passed by._

_"Maybe..." She said vaguely, wrapping his hand between both of hers. "It's possible that I've been thinking about the exact same thing for so long._ _I like you, Miguel."_

_He took a deep breath, feeling the dew_ _against his hair_ _and her long fingernails tracing his arm._

_"I've liked you ever since."_

_Tory blushed and looked away, and when she turned towards him again, she subtly inched closer to connect their lips in the sweetest kiss._ _One that marked new beginnings. The beginning of a mature relationship between two people that truly understood each other, and not just smitten teenagers wound up in a karate soap opera, though they still were._ _They slowly but reluctantly pulled apart, and time froze as they stared into each other's eyes, swimming with hope and affection._

_"I'm so glad we're doing this again," Tory whispered, ruffling up his hair ever so slightly._

_"Me too."_

The next time Miguel leaned in for a kiss, he was just met with a pillow, and he groaned in annoyance, burying his face into it. Why weren't dreams like these ever real? As he sat up groggily, his face still set in a goofy grin from his dream, he knew he had to. He had to tell Tory how he felt, and he had to do it soon.

 _Today. No matter what._ He hopped out of bed with newfound drive. He didn't even been this invigorated to recruit new students for Sensei Lawrence's new dojo, and that was not going well so far. It had been a week since Johnny had started Eagle Fang Karate, and so far, it was just him and the Cobra Kai rejects, but that was a concern for another time. His sole purpose for today was to tell Tory how he felt before it was too late. Strike First.

He picked up his phone, called Tory's number and held it to his ear.

"Hello?" Came Will's voice.

"Hey, Will! How's it going?" Miguel asked, a smile creeping up his face as it always did when he spoke to the boy.

"I'm good, how are you?" He paused. "I'm sorry I couldn't come visit you in the hospital."

Miguel detected the slight remorse in the boy's voice, and was touched that Will had been thinking of him. "Hey, I'm fine now," he said, gently, "Tory's always busy and there was no other way for you to have come anyway. I'm just glad you were thinking of me."

"Tory told me you could walk again! I'm so happy for you!" The boy's tone perked up again as he began to talk animatedly about something that happened at school.

"Hey, Will, is Tory around?" Miguel asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.

"Yep, she's inside. Just a second." There was some shuffling as he passed the phone to his sister. Finally, he heard the husky voice he knew he had fallen for.

"Yeah?" Tory asked, curtly. This was unlike her, but Miguel wouldn't put it past her to be a morning grump.

"Tory, hey, it's Miguel."

"Miguel? What do you want?"

"Can we meet? There's something I need to tell you."

There was a few seconds of silence, and Miguel waited anxiously, his heartbeat was the only sound he could hear as there was deathly silence on the other line.

"No," she said, finally.

"What? Why?" Miguel asked. Tory was behaving strangely today. She never snapped at him, and he knew that she didn't have work today, so why was she turning him down?

"I said, no."

And with that, she just hung up. No explanation whatsoever. What was going on with her? 

* * *

Johnny stumbled into the public park, chugging his eighth Coors' Banquet of the day. He just hoped that more kids turned up today, and that he'd be able to prepare them enough to face Kreese and his students. Miguel wasn't strong enough yet. He needed time to recover, to get back in form, which was not an overnight job. Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice the teenage boy standing with his back to Johnny. He wore a black jacket, his hands in his pocket as he patiently waited.

"Welcome to Eagle Fang Karate," Johnny said, and the boy whipped around. Johnny took a step back, his blue eyes wide open in disbelief. He was certain that he was sober by now.  
The boy acknowledged his presence with a slight nod of his pretty head, and his face stretched into a smirk. Not a pleasant one, at that.

"Robby?" Johnny blurted. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Dad."

Johnny noticed the change in his son; the lazy drawl in his voice that showed he didn't really care about anything anymore, the visible change in his appearance since he got out of juvie, the bruises across his body and most of all, his cold, calculating green eyes. For the most part, Johnny remembered Robby's wounded expression every time they bumped into each other, and the air of nonchalance he had about him to make it easier to convince himself that he didn't care.

But it was different this time. His kind eyes that suffused with an unfamiliar glow that day Johnny drove him to school for the first time. The first time he had called him 'Dad', and hadn't meant it as a jibe. The day it all went wrong.

"Robby, I'm sorry. I really meant to visit you that day, it's just– Miguel. He was being prepped for surgery, and-" Johnny broke off, rare tears swimming in his piercing blue eyes as he recalled that day.

_Carmen's tired face and her bloodshot eyes as she coldly thanked him for contributing to Miguel's surgery. He remembered the anxiety that rose in him as he wondered if his student would ever walk again. And to think that it was his son that had caused this. His son. Robby. He groaned as he realised that today was the day he was supposed to go visit Robby. Why couldn't he ever help one of the two without letting the other down?_

"Alright, that's enough." Robby rolled his eyes at Johnny's lame excuse of an apology. "I've had enough, dad. You've let me down one too many times, and I'm not having any more of this bullshit. I'm done."

He turned to leave, but Johnny grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Robby, wait!" He said, his voice cracking. "Give me a last chance, please! We can make this right. It's not too late, Robby, we can fix this. You and I."

Robby scoffed, shaking Johnny's grip away. "Wow, look at this," he laughed, "the great Johnny Lawrence begging for another chance. What wouldn't Mr LaRusso have given to see this!"

Johnny's blood boiled at the mention of Daniel, but he kept silent. This was not the time for it.

It's too late, dad. I gave you so many chances, but you chose Miguel over me every time. You don't know how that feels, because you were too busy tending to your crippled student! I'm out of here." He spat.

"Robby! I'm sorry, I mean it. I'm a failure father, but you know I've always loved you. And I always will. You'll always be my son, and I'll do anything to earn your trust. Please, just think about it."

Robby saw a broken man in his father, he saw a man who had whiled away his life indulging in the good times, leaving him utterly unprepared for the bad. He saw a lifetime of regret and remorse, and for a minute, he considered the offer.

"You'll do anything, huh?" He murmured.

"Anything."


	27. I'll Do It

_**Present Day** _

Sam grimaced as she pulled up behind the Reseda strip mall. Could the dojo be located in a worse place? She made sure to stay out of view of all the Cobra Kai students that piled out of the glass doors, laughing and talking loudly. She had her eyes fixed on that door as she spotted the dark blonde head that she was after. Her hair now dyed brown at the tips, she stood in front of the dojo and talked to Hawk for several minutes before the latter hopped into his car and waved goodbye.

Tory began to walk around the strip mall to the bus stop on the other side, when she spotted Sam's white car. She just stood there, arms crossed over her chest and arched an eyebrow, waiting for the other girl to get out of the car. She finally did, and squared up to Tory, her blue eyes glaring at her.

"What?" Tory snapped, after a long moment of silence. She was tired and wanted to get to work early so she could have some time off before her shift, but here was Samantha LaRusso, standing in her way as usual.

"I saw you that day," Sam stated, scowling at her.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I saw you with Miguel."

Tory made a frustrated noise, sending a bored look Sam's way. "Yeah, so?"

"I don't like it. You can't be together."

"Who are you to decide that, bitch?" Tory said, raising her voice, and Sam instinctively stepped back. "You saw me with Miguel, does that make you jealous, Princess?"

Sam willed herself to keep her cool. She had the upper hand in this game, so she'd better act like it instead of whimpering every time the other girl came close.

"Jealous?" She scoffed. "Jealousy is for kids. I'm here to tell you to stay away from him."

"Stay away from him? Why would I listen to you?"

"You will," Sam declared, triumphantly. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" Tory saw no logic. Why should she stay away from Miguel only because Sam wasn't getting far with him? She wasn't going to budge. Least of all, at LaRusso's command.

"Unless you'd like to go to juvie," she purred, smiling widely. Sam had played her trump card, and now she knew that Tory had nothing on her. She would have to comply.

"Hey!" Tory protested. "This isn't fair, LaRusso! You asked me to keep Cobra Kai away from your little pussy friends, and I did. This was not part of our agreement!"

Sam laughed heartily, a sound Tory hated hearing. "Wow," she admitted, rolling her eyes at Tory. "You're going to teach me about a fair fight after everything you've done?"

Tory said nothing, just staring at the ground. This was defeat, but she wasn't having it. She was taught, _"Defeat does not exist in this dojo,"_ and she was going to live up to it.

"Shut up, LaRusso. This is beyond unfair, and you know it too!"

"Oh, right," Sam pretended to think for a while. "But I was told by someone that this isn't a tournament; this is real life. And there are no rules."

She couldn't believe Sam's nerve, using her own words against her yet again. She couldn't give up what she had with Miguel, not when they were finally getting somewhere. Not when he was the first and last thought that occupied her mind every single day. But she couldn't forfeit her family either, by going to juvie. She was the backbone of her family, and she couldn't let them pay for her mistakes.

"So, what's it going to be, Queen Cobra?" Sam teased. "Give up Miguel, or I give up the secret?"

Tory couldn't ignore the evident dilemma that she found herself in. She was being forced to choose between the most important people in her life, and she hated it. She fixed Sam with a pained look, but the other girl wasn't having any of it. She tapped her foot against the pavement impatiently, waiting for a response.

"Fine," she sighed, after lots of thought. As much as it broke her heart to do this, she had no other choice. She couldn't leave her family hanging, but picturing Miguel's confused, morose expression made it even harder for her.

"I'll do it. I'll ghost him, alright?"

Sam smiled, nodding in approval.

"That's the way it should be. Break your promise, and I'll break mine, get it?" She threatened.

Tory nodded. "Okay."

She hated herself with everything she had for doing this to Miguel, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It had to be done. 

* * *

"I'll do anything," Johnny pleaded. "Please, just give me another chance."

Robby smirked.

"I'll train here with you on one condition," he said.

"What is it?"

"Beat me in a fight."

Johnny shook his head. He was not fighting his son.

"I'm not doing it." He said. "I won't fight my son."

Robby shrugged. "The choice is yours, dad. All you need to do is prove that you have something to teach me."

Johnny just sighed. "Robby, don't do this. I don't want to hurt you, and I _won't_ fight you."

"Why, are you scared?" Robby said, inching forward towards his father. "You can't hurt me any more than you already did by not being there my whole life!"

Johnny gasped, finally hearing Robby say the words to his face. His heart contorted in shame as he recalled that day sixteen years ago– no, it couldn't be. Today was February 4th. He had forgotten again, hadn't he? He watched as Robby fixed him with a loathing glare. He had forgotten his son's birthday yet again, and no matter how hard he tried; marking calendars, repeatedly reminding himself from January and even setting those weird alerts on his stupid smartphone; memory just slipped away from him when he awoke to the cold floor of his apartment nearly every day, cans strewn across the room.

"Robby, I have to tell you something," he began weakly. His son just shrugged in a 'go on' gesture.

"Happy Birthday, Robby."

The boy laughed mirthlessly. "Congratulations, you remember for once."

Johnny's mouth opened and shut like a goldfish; he was lost for words. Apologies were out of the question, as he remembered all the hurried presents he had bought his son over the years, showing up at Shannon's apartment a few days late every time, and having them tossed back in his face by a teary-eyed Robby.

"Maybe you can finally give me the birthday gift I really want," Robby said, getting into a fighting stance.

"Robby, no. I'm not doing this. I've been a pathetic father, but I could never hurt you on purpose. It's not happening." Johnny felt a lump in his throat, and he just longed to wrap Robby in his arms, and tell him that everything would be alright, but he wasn't a gullible child anymore. He had seen the worst at such a young age, and Johnny was to blame for most of it.

"Then I'll be off," he announced, beginning to walk away.

"Okay, I'll do it," he called, inwardly kicking himself for the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

Robby turned around, nodding. "Now that's the spirit."

Johnny just waited for his son to strike, and strike he did, with a powerful shout as he aimed a side kick to his chest. Johnny deflected it with ease, not counter-attacking.

This continued, with Robby attacking viciously, and Johnny barely blocking him and doing the bare minimum. He couldn't bring himself to do more than that, he wouldn't raise a hand on his son, ever.

"Come on, dad!" Robby roared. "Is that all you've got?!"

Johnny put his hands out to his sides, pleading with his son to stop. Robby just grunted in frustration and employed a kata on him, catching him off guard and throwing him to the ground. Johnny sat up, the use of Miyagi-Do karate clouding his judgement, and suddenly, it was the All Valley finals of 1984, and there stood lanky Daniel LaRusso, smirking above him. He wasn't going to let LaRusso win at any cost. He crawled forward, trapping LaRusso's ankles between his own, and flipped him over, grinning in satisfaction at the loud thud that ensued.

He stood up, punching and kicking his opponent multiple times on the face and torso. _He was winning. Sensei would be proud._

Suddenly, he heard a groan that definitely didn't belong to his arch-nemesis.

_"Dad, stop!"_

He was snapped out of his headspace as he rushed to the boy in front of him. His boy. He slapped his forehead with his palm at the mess he had created. Not again.


	28. Crumbling And Caving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a short chapter, just setting the mood for the next few ;) hope you like it!

**_Present Day_ **

"Robby!"

Johnny rushed to his son, who was flat out on the ground, his emerald irises wide and frozen in apprehension like brittle green candy, wincing as Johnny's fingers brushed his face. He sported a bruised cheek, while the soft skin on his upper lip burst open, trickling warm blood through them, staining his teeth red. His left eye was swollen shut, sure to be one of the most impressive black eyes the next day. Johnny dug into his blonde hair, sinking to his knees as he witnessed the damage that one look at LaRusso's cocky face could do. In those few moments, he could've sworn that he was eighteen again, with the adrenaline rushing in him while he could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

_LaRusso - 2, Lawrence - nothing._

He wasn't trying to hurt Robby. He wouldn't. He _couldn't_ hurt Robby. All he was doing was defending himself from LaRusso- well, LaRusso's best student. Just seconds before, he had been pleased with how he was handling the situation, despite the 'fight' that Robby had stubbornly insisted on. He had been defending himself without even raising a hand on his son. But just like all the things Johnny's ever done, he fucked it up. He noticed Robby's eyes starting to flutter shut, and he panicked. Quickly scanning his surroundings, he locked eyes with his target, the water fountain, before sprinting over to it.

He tried a few times to cup the cool water between his hands and hurry back to Robby, but it slipped through the crevices between his fingers, just like his relationship with his son was. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a teenage girl jogging around the park. She slowed down a little distance away from him and reached for her water bottle. Johnny rushed over to her and grabbed the bottle from her hands, pouring water all over Robby's face, causing him to jump into an upright position, his face ridden with shock.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The girl snapped, walking over to him angrily.

Johnny shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, it was urgent. You can refill it, though!"

She rolled her eyes as she snatched her bottle back from him and strutted away like she owned the goddamn place. Johnny couldn't help but scoff. Was that really what he was like at that age? Oh shit.

"But not from the water fountain on the right!" He chuckled between his words, he just couldn't help himself as he called out, "I saw some meth-head wipe his ass in it!"

The girl spun around and flipped him off from a hundred metres away before disappearing from his view.

He returned his attention to Robby, who was rubbing his temples and squinting at the diagonal rays of the evening sun, still in a daze.

"Robby, I'm sorry," Johnny said, holding Robby's surprisingly small hand between his before the boy could protest. "I fucked up, I messed up, and there ain't no bloody excuse to throw around this time. I'd never even think of laying a hand on you, forget hurting you, but when you used that- that kata, I..." He sighed, watching Robby's gaze lift to meet his. His eyes were swimming with something Johnny couldn't decode, and he decided to leave it that way, sparing him any more pain.

"I think I pretty much blew off every chance of us starting over, huh?" He laughed humourlessly under his breath, waiting for Robby to withdraw his hand. Much to his surprise and delight, he didn't, instead just stared at him for a good moment.

"Why'd you do it?" Robby asked, quietly.

Johnny said nothing, shifting uncomfortably as he felt the grass underneath him prick through his jeans to the underside of his legs.

"Dad," Robby said, a hint of growing impatience in his voice, "why'd you do it? Why'd you snap like that, if you never wanted to hurt me?"

Johnny could see tears hiding behind those beautiful eyes he was staring into, tears that he had no doubt held in for years at a time. Tears that were his fault. His eyes were a mixture of hurt and rage, like hot coal alongside blocks of ice; the coal simmering away and radiating heat to all those around it, while being slowly but surely doused by the ice, that was melting simultaneously.

Neither could the two emotions coexist in his heart, not could they fizzle each other out completely, and Johnny could see the boy torn between everything Johnny had done, or rather _hadn't done_ that drove the two far apart, and the instinct to seek warmth in his father's strong arms, because after all, he was his father. It was Johnny's blood that flowed through Robby's veins, at the end of the day, and nothing could ever change that.

He took a deep breath, determined to be as honest with Robby as he could possibly get. _Now or never, Johnny,_ he told himself.


	29. Slipping Through The Cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 2k hits! I hope that it's been worth the time you took to read my story <3

_**Present Day** _

Miguel stared into the blue light of his illuminated screen, deflating at Tory's still ongoing radio silence. He couldn't fathom what he might have said to offend her, because every day they'd spent together since they started talking again had been great. He couldn't think of any reason for her to cut ties with him so suddenly. He racked every corner of his brains to come to even the most feeble explanations possible, but gave up eventually. With each passing day, the urge to admit that he still had feelings for her grew stronger, and in the week that had passed in total silence, Miguel found himself bursting with emotion, longing to blurt out the words that had stationed themselves at the tip of his tongue.

He just laid there on his bed, flat on his stomach in the dark, waiting for an indication that Tory was actually alive on the other side. His eyes grew heavy with sleep as he spent hours upon hours surfing through the endless maze that is YouTube, but barely paying attention to anything he was watching; instead switching back to the messages, hoping against hope that she'd atleast show some signs of talking to him. Anything. Sighing dejectedly as his phone showed 2:46 am, he reluctantly set it face-down on the bedside table, rolling over on his back as he drifted in and out of bouts of disturbed sleep.

All he could think of was Tory, but she seemed to be too busy to even acknowledge his existence! He tossed and turned, the sheets suddenly suffocating him as he felt the typical California heatwave, despite the ceiling fan merrily spinning around at the highest speed. Groaning, had buried his head into the pillows, every iota of sleep having deserted him by now. The wail of a siren chat through the thick silence as it drifted in through his window, and Miguel wondered who it was now that was fighting for their life. Not too long ago, it was him in that ambulance. He shuddered. No, it was best not to go there.

He'd had months and months of nightmares about that day, and had spent so long in the uncertainty of whether he'd be able to stand on his own two feet again. He remembered his mother's silent sobs outside the house when she thought he wasn't looking, but he noticed everything, just deciding not to mention anything. He decided to check one more time for a response from Tory, though he doubted that she'd be up at such an odd hour. He shrugged. This was the most unpredictable girl that he was talking about. Worth a shot, right?

Reaching for his phone, his brown eyes lit up with the white-blue lights as he scrolled through his messages with a slight frown. He spotted an unread message from Mitch, who had finally gotten enough sense knocked into him to join Eagle Fang. Miguel's jaw dropped as he read the message.

_**Hey man** _

_**All Valley cancelled for this year, just found out.** _

_**It sucks.** _

_Great,_ Miguel thought, rolling his eyes. Like he wasn't having a bad day already.

* * *

As she waited in front of the kitchen to collect the order, her mind drifted to the best and worst thing in her life at the moment.

Miguel.

She hated every moment of the silence between them; she resented every time she slid the red button on her phone when it lit up with a call from him; it took everything in her to not type out a witty response to his desperate, longing texts. Clearly, he was feeling her absence, and she'd always harbour the guilt for it. She hated being at Samantha LaRusso's feet, pleading and begging her to keep the secret, acting as she pleased for fear of going to juvie and being torn apart from her family. She itched to run up to Sam, yell, _"Fuck you, but I'm not doing anything you say!"_ and make things right with Miguel. Too bad, she couldn't. The stakes were too high.

"Excuse me!"

Tory rushed to the customer, who seemed confused, and not the happiest.

"Yes, ma'am? How can I help you?"

"I ordered for a Caesar salad," the woman said, gesturing to the platter in front of her. "Not California rolls."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'll change that for you right away," Tory picked up the platter and fished out her notepad. Hurrying over to the table that _had_ ordered the California rolls, she muttered a quick apology before replacing the plates, earning disapproving looks from both parties. And that wasn't even the only mishap of the day; she tripped and nearly spilt scalding hot tea all over a customer, causing her manager, Mr Cooper, to beckon her over. And he didn't look happy.

* * *

Johnny pulled up in front of the mansion, rolling his eyes at the extravagance. Not a thing had changed since they were kids. Knocking on the door, he was greeted by a short woman with twinkling eyes and dirty blonde hair done up in curlers. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at the sight of the visitor. She opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come in.

"Johnny, what a surprise! Come in, have a seat!"

The woman busted about a little bit, producing slices of sponge cake and two cups of tea in no time. Finally setting herself down opposite him, she stared at him expectantly, like she knew his visit held a purpose. Smart woman.

Johnny felt her gaze on him as he wolfed down five slices of cake in five minutes, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, uh, how's it going?" He asked, chuckling nervously.

She just smiled knowingly.

"Johnny, what's wrong? You can tell me, I can see that you need help with something."

He sighed. Trust her to cut the crap and get straight to the point. He kicked his past self for denying feelings for Rebecca Burns when she asked him out in sophomore year at college. He could've landed the jackpot: smart, beautiful, clever, funny, caring; all of it. And yet, he decided to go to party after party with her wayward best friend, Shannon Keene. Not that he didn't love Shan back then, but if he was finally being honest with himself after thirty years, he was more enamoured by her looks than anything else. He was a pretty flaky jerk back then, so maybe that kind of shallow behaviour was expected of him. He shrugged it off. Whatever. What did it matter now?

"Um, so, I kind of need advice, Becky. Parenting advice. I really fucked things up this time. Much worse than the other times."

Becky arched an eyebrow, a smile quirking the ends of her life, but she kept it down for Johnny's sake.

"Well, he's not home yet, but you're welcome to stick around for dinner." She offered, referring to her husband, who was still at work.

"Actually, Becky, I need _your_ advice. You're a student counsellor, you're good at this shit."

Becky nodded. "If you say so, Johnny."

Just then, two children ran down the stairs, eyes lighting up when they saw Johnny.

"Uncle Johnny!"

A few seconds later, Johnny found himself entwined in a bear hug, with two children hanging off him. He couldn't help but laugh. After everything that had gone wrong when Robby was born, he hit rock bottom, and he had been taken in by this family. The children loved him like a second father, and he was forever grateful for that, for he loved them back like they were his children, and tried his best to be a good influence in their lives. For the few hours that he was in this house, his life didn't seem like as much of a horror movie as it was, and he'd never be able to put into words how much he appreciated the genuine hospitality and love.

Just then, the front door swung open and a middle-aged man walked in, beaming. The children threw themselves on him, and when he spotted Johnny, he dropped all his bags to wrap the man in a warm embrace.

"Johnny! What brings you here, man? By God's grace, you're here just in time for Beef Wellington! I know it's your favourite."

Johnny laughed, clapping the man on the back.

"Once a priest, always a priest."

"I'm _not_ a priest!"


	30. How Would You Feel?

_**Present Day** _

"Well, Johnny, what's going on?" Bobby Brown asked, coming down the stairs into the living room, his suit now replaced by a plain grey cotton shirt and jeans. His head was bare; bald and shiny, devoid of all the hair that even God couldn't bring back. Johnny threw his blonde head back at that, boisterous laughter filling the large room. For a moment, his blue eyes lit up with the youthful mirth Bobby had known and admired, that wide, the charming, carefree smile that crept up his face and lit up his eyes every time he played with Bobby's children, Zoe and Jackson.

He thought back to the Johnny Lawrence he knew in the 80s, the hot-tempered, charismatic boy that took Bobby under his wing when he first stumbled through the doors of Cobra Kai. Johnny embraced him as an equal, as a brother in arms, a friend, rather than a junior. His avuncular kindness to Bobby as they were both deployed to a corner of the dojo while Johnny taught him his first punches, the good-natured pokes in the ribs all put his niggling anxiety at ease. Every time Kreese would fix Bobby with a severe look, panic would rise in the boy's throat.

No matter how much he tried to play it cool, he was terrified of the ex-military man that bellowed out lessons to them every evening. Damn, he was sure he'd shit his pants when Kreese yelled, _"Quiet!"_ on his first day in the dojo, causing Bobby to jump out of his skin. Each time, Johnny had his back. They competed side by side for years, in tournament after tournament, raising a fist in encouragement every time the other scored a point. No matter how rotten the old bastard's values were, no matter how much of a negative impact Cobra Kai had on the initial year's of adulthood, Bobby wouldn't change a thing, because that's where he truly found himself. Among his boys.

Pushing away fond memories of their motorcycles that we're beginning to rev up in his brain, Bobby sat down next to his wife Rebecca, facing Johnny. The Johnny across from him was a shell of the man he knew in high school and all through college. Bags hung heavy under his eyes from nights of unrest, flickering with frustration and sadness every time he bowed his head, blonde fringe falling over his forehead, wrinkled as he sat lost in thought. Bobby knew that things were getting out of hand for Johnny. Control was slowly slipping away from him, and there was little the man could do about it.

"Johnny?"

No response. Becky waved her hand in front of his face, but he started right through, his expression blank.

"Johnny," Bobby tried again. "Johnny! _John, are you hearing me?!"_ He yelled a little at the end and sat back contently as it worked. Johnny shook his head violently and shifted his gaze upon Bobby.

"What?" He asked, shaken up.

"What's going on, Johnny?"

He sighed, thumbs continuously fiddling with the collar of his denim jacket. His lips twitched momentarily, eyes closed and murmuring something to himself as if he were looking for the right words to say. Bobby raised his eyebrows, forever the impatient child he that he was, but a smooth, cool touch on his forearm and a gentle shake of the head from his wife was enough to get him slumped back into his seat, tapping his foot in anticipation of Johnny's response.

Several minutes passed in this fashion, with subtle prompting from Becky and some not so subtle grunts in bordering annoyance from Bobby, before Johnny finally found himself capable of stringing enough words together to make something out of them. Johnny cleared his throat, and the couple sat upright, ready to absorb every word.

"Well, honestly..." He began, his eyes darting all over the room. "I'm fucked."

Bobby and Becky exchanged a perplexed look before turning back to Johnny.

"I'm just screwed over. I-I can't do anything right with Robby... I- I just don't know anymore."

"What did you do, Johnny?"

* * *

"So, how're you doing?"

Miguel looked into Sam's excited eyes, her brown hair falling over her shoulders in a fluffy mess as they walked to Biology and Psychology together. She was talking about so much so fast, that Miguel was having a hard time keeping up with the torrent of words that escaped her every second. Honestly, he was only lending her half an ear as his mind moped about Tory. It was bad enough that he had to catch up on a ton of work due to his injury in the first semester, and just when he had managed to get back.on track, the 'Tory Problem', as he liked to call it, ran through his mind in an infinite loop day and night.

He barely heeded what teachers were saying in class, almost had the baseball knock out his teeth in PE and worst of all, walked right into the swimming pool one day. It was ridiculous, to think about it, that one should pine for a girl so much when she barely gave him the time of day. Slowly, hurt indignation began to cement itself in him, and Miguel felt his brain heat up at the slightest of provocation. He would lash out at anything and everything, not even soaring a moment to give it a thought.

"I'm good," he managed, resisting the impulse to rudely cut her off. His head was aching, and Samantha babbling away about some campaign to rescue Asiatic lions wasn't helping one bit.

"Uh, Sam," he finally said, interrupting her monologue.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry, but can we have this conversation later? I'm just thinking about the test we have."

Sam frowned. "We don't have a test today."

"Right," Miguel frantically racked his brains for a comeback. "I meant the one next week. That lesson's really complicated, so..."

"Well, you have a week to worry about that!" Sam said, leading them towards the Biology classroom. "What I was saying is..."

"Sam!" Miguel exclaimed, raising his voice a little. "I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood for animal shelters right now."

Sam just nodded, a little winded by his outburst. Miguel was known to be patient and even tempered, so she was shocked by this.

"I– Oh, umm... Sorry. What's wrong?" She asked, biting her lip as she trod cautiously.

"I'm just- I've got something on my mind. I'll see you around."

Miguel turned to leave, relieved that he could finally get some time to think in peace.

"Miguel, wait!"

He groaned inwardly. So much for peace.

"Do you want to, maybe, hang out after school? Like, not a date?"


	31. Brand New Eyes

** AUTHOR'S NOTE **

**Hey, so this isn't an author's note per se, it's just a space for me to talk to y'all, because I really need to. You can feel free to skip past this announcement and start reading the chapter; I won't mind in the slightest, but it's my humble request to you that you please stay and try to understand what I have to say.**

**First off, I'm very fortunate and grateful to have some of the most encouraging, enthusiastic and supportive readers out there following my stories, so to everyone who has taken the time to go through my stories, thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I'd just like to remind you that Wattpad, AO3, Fanfiction.net, all these platforms are merely for people to share their stories and views on that particular show/movie/book/etc, and this is only and only for entertainment!! Yours and theirs, nothing beyond that.**

**I speak to you as a writer and as someone who enjoys reading other people's work across sites, and I've noticed so many severe comments and reviews that are less of criticism and more of personal attacks to the writer! Let me tell you, it's insanely demoralising and crushing. Every chapter we put out is a labour of love and while we don't expect everybody to love it, hate and personal attacks, calling names, that's not cool!**

**Before you begin to type such hurtful things, take a moment to consider that these few simple words can have a shattering effect on the person it's addressed to, and do you really want to hurt someone so badly? Someone that you don't even know?**

**That's all I have to say, that please, please stop with hate comments because it's a form of** **cyberbullying** **in itself. Don't ever be a part of harming someone's mental state and bringing them down even if you didn't intend to do so. Spread love, not hate! Thanks for patiently bearing with me, but this is an important issue I'd like to bring to light. While I've been lucky enough so far to have gotten the sweetest, most encouraging comments on my work, I can't speak for everyone. They're all working hard on these stories, so show them some love!**

**Thanks for hearing me out, I just wanted to get that off my chest because I hate to think what all these people receiving hate for no reason at all even go through. Nobody deserves to feel that way, ever. That's all, enjoy the chapter!! :)**   


* * *

**_2015_ **

"Jamie, I have a bad feeling about this," Tory whispered, following the older girl's shadow as noiselessly as she possibly could.

"Chill out, Tory," Jamie snapped. "Don't be such a bitch."

Tory shrank back like she'd been hit, still not used to Jamie's sharp tongue. The older girl just grabbed Tory's arm and pulled her along into their usual spot in the park. The little hollow in the tree, where nobody would notice them. Jamie pulled out a bottle of vodka from her bag, and Tory glanced around, her heart thumping wildly.

"Where'd you get that?" She whispered, regretting having accepted Jamie's invitation to 'do something awesome' tonight. She was far from legal, and so was Jamie. Here, she found herself sneaking out of her house every night, traipsing around town hand in hand with Jamie, downing a few drinks each time, though she didn't want to most times. She just didn't want Jamie to think she was a stupid child. She loved every moment they spent together, stealing swift kisses before Jamie dropped an utterly wasted Tory back home in the wee hours of the morning.

Maybe she shouldn't be doing this anymore. After months of going behind her mom's back, stealing petty things from the neighbourhood shops, treating herself to stolen snacks and goodies while her mother was ready to forgo a meal for her and Will... For the first time since she had met Jamie, a knot formed in her stomach. She replayed all her actions, all her shenanigans in the past year, and shifted uncomfortably in her spot as she watched Jamie down shot after shot in rapid succession, and a weight began to position itself over her shoulders, slowly weighing her down, causing her to hunch, close up and want to curl up into a ball and just cry.

"Tory?"

She felt a light touch on her arm as Jamie repeatedly tapped her arm to get her attention.

"Tory, you good?"

She opened her mouth to tell Jamie that no, she wasn't. She couldn't go on like this for much longer. She couldn't keep lying to her family, whom she had told that she sometimes couldn't sleep so went for walks. Honestly, her mother was worried sick and was even saving up for a doctor's appointment! No amount of procrastinating could stop her, and Tory was starting to get worried. She knew she would have to come clean soon before all her lies blew up in her face, but she was terrified and so guilty to admit everything she'd been doing.

"Tory? Is anyone home?" Jamie waves her hand in front of Tory's face, joking her from her thoughts and she took a close look at the girl across from her. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders in a lazy ponytail, with stray strands framing her petite face. Her grey eyes looked like liquid bronze in the reflected lights of the streetlights in the park, with a slight shadow falling on the tip of her dainty nose. Her lips were wet and glistening with the alcohol she had just downed, and she was grinning stupidly at Tory like they were having the best time of their lives. Crumbs of slice cake stuck to her lips, but she didn't mind in the least.

She just wished she could live in the moment forever, with Jamie looking at her like she was some kind of precious jewel that she'd protect with everything she had. She took a picture of the scene with her eyes, the dim surroundings with barely any light in the hollow of their tree except the faint rays of light from the park.

"Yeah, Jamie, what's up?" She said, smiling sweetly as Jamie poured her another glass of whatever beer they managed to grab. She should stop now, right? She willed herself to decline the drink, stop here for tonight but her hands had a mind of their own, reaching for the paper cup and clinking it with Jamie's, followed by a loving peck on the lips.

"Having fun?" Jamie asked, rummaging for something in her bag, and Tory wanted to just yell at her to _stop!_ _This is too much, and she shouldn't be doing any of this with her. Stealing? Drinking?_ Tory couldn't believe what she had become, and inwardly grimaced as she recalled the numerous times she'd just snapped at Will every time he asked her something. Because Jamie was short-tempered, she thought it was cool to be short-tempered.

She managed a tight-lipped smile and nodded.

"Yeah, this is nice."

_Come on, Tory! Stop with this already! Drop the act and tell her you can't do this anymore. This isn't you anymore, this is just a desperate Jamie clone. Stop!_

Hastily dismissing the nagging voice continuously playing in her head, she proceeded to do what she did every time. End up listening to everything Jamie said, because she was scared that nobody would like her if she wasn't as badass and the heart-on-my-sleeve type, like Jamie. Everyone loved Jamie, and she wanted to be loved, to be popular too. She was just a nobody at her school, none of the kids at kickboxing even minded her because she was one of the youngest there.

Honestly, she was miserable here. Atleast when they were back in LA, she had some friends. Here, Jamie was her everything. Her only lifeline, and she didn't want to lose that. Moreover, she really loved Jamie. She loved the tinkle in her voice when she laughed; she loved when the wind blew her hair into her eyes and she pouted slightly; she loved the affectionate look in her otherwise turbulent eyes every time she looked at Tory; she loved how she was always ready to stand up for herself; she loved everything about Jamie. And she only hoped that Jamie felt the same way about her, but she doubted that.

She was shy, scared of so many things, didn't have friends, had a poor family with a struggling single mother, barely ever had money to go out for ice cream and movies with her classmates but never told them why, so they automatically assumed her rejections for her being stuck up. She thought, maybe if she could change herself, be like Jamie, everyone would start to like her. Maybe boys would ask her out like they always asked Mindy Williams out, holding out a bar of chocolate with flushed cheeks and wide, nervous eyes. Maybe she'd be invited to parties, and have a large group of friends. Maybe people would actually love the new her, and she wouldn't be so lonely anymore.

Deep down, she knew she shouldn't be out drinking or pilfering stuff, but she hadn't learnt to refuse Jamie yet, and she doubted that she ever would. 

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

"Fuck it, Tory. What are you even doing?"

She restrained herself from throwing the stove against the wall as she burnt yet another slice of bread. What was wrong with her today? She couldn't even make fucking eggs and toast without wasting the entire loaf! Her head was pounding from the whiskey she had downed the previous night, and for the first time in years, she felt it coming back up. Throwing the spatula across the counter, she bolted into the nearest bathroom, gripping the pot as she retched her insides out. She felt it burn through her throat and an unpleasant tingling in her nose caused her to watch in horrors vomit escaped her nostrils as well.

Shivering slightly as she sat on the floor, memories of Jamie came flooding back to her. How much she had tried to emulate the older girl, and how much she had ended up hurting herself and the people around her in the process. She should've stopped long ago, she should've listened to the warning voice in her head, but she was blinded by the sweet thoughts of 'Jamie, Jamie, Jamie' until it was too late.

Her vision blurred as tears stemmed in her eyes without warning, and she just sat there with her head in her hands, willing it to go away. She hated the person she had become, with the monster of her insecurities eating away from inside at the real Tory, leaving a horrendously confused soul just trying to fit in, but ended up getting off the train way too late, though she had realised halfway that it was the wrong train she boarded.

She knew it was a long time ago, but her mistakes still haunted her, and she knew that those years were the reason everything was the way it was now. She felt the weight on her shoulders return, pressing itself onto her, pushing her down further and further, making it hard for her to get up again. She could feel it coming on again, and she knew she was helpless against it. She clutched the handle of the door to stand up, but she didn't want to scare Will or her mother.

Tory shut her eyes, hoping fervently that she could skip the horrific part and just get up and get out of the damn bathroom already. 

* * *

**_6 months ago_ **

"Holy shit, Tory, did you read the news?" Miguel said, walking up to her after training.

"What happened?" Tory asked, not really interested in the news, to be honest. But she saw how Miguel prided himself on being updated, and how excited he got before narrating a juicy bit of news to her, so she didn't want to dampen his spirits.

"So, a group of teenagers broke into a mall and practically swiped half of the stuff from the gift shops and clothing stores! Why would someone do that? Like, they've got jewellery shops there, why go to clothing stores?"

Tory studied his face as he ranted and on about his loathing for such people who stepped all over others' hard-earned money by stealing. He hated thieves more than anything, and she could see it emblazoned across his brown eyes, now hard with contempt. Her eyes grew wide as she felt her heart rate speed up. What if he found out who she was back in San Francisco? What would he think of her? She shut her eyes, trying to make sense of the millions of voices shouting different things in her head, and tried to dismiss Jamie's face smiling at her, luring her back into the trap with her dazzling smile.

Miguel cocked his head at Tory, stopping momentarily.

"Tory, are you okay?!"


	32. ANNOUNCEMENT

**_Hi guys, thanks again for the support on the story. I have some news for you all._ **

**_I'm going to be taking a break from this story for a few weeks, because I have exams and other stuff going on. I'm putting this story on hiatus, NOT discontinuing it, so hang in there! I'll be back with more chapters in April, so hopefully see you then._ **

**_Thanks for understanding! See you soon_ **


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